


Dark Wings

by Neila_Nuruodo



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (Very eventual), Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Eventual F/F (non-explicit), F/F, FFXIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Hallucinations, Night Terrors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2020-10-09 23:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20518355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neila_Nuruodo/pseuds/Neila_Nuruodo
Summary: ***Shadowbringers Spoilers***A young Gridanian woman suffering from hallucinations and night terrors meets an odd figure.  This Elidibus claims he can help her control her dreams, and the possibility of relief is too tempting to turn down.  But leaving everything she knows behind will not be easy..."For what was once shattered may be forged anew..."Begins shortly after the end of 5.0.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know unreliable narrators can be frustrating, so be warned: the main character doesn't always know what is real and what is not. It will get better, I promise! Eventually. Slightly.
> 
> I'm also pretty confident that the next raid tier will invalidate every single thing I'm guessing here, so we'll just go ahead and expect this to become an AU.

I writhed, jerking, silence shrieking from my lips, slicing my throat to ribbons. Great razored claws tore me apart, shredding my soul, only for it to reform, searing back together to be torn again. My tormentor morphed, giant coils binding and crushing me, massive fangs slamming down to impale me. Venom scoured my veins, acid washing through me, leaving dead and scarred tissue behind.

Finally I could feel no more pain; numb, I slumped in my scaly prison, drained of fight. Creatures crowded around, muttering and whispering to me. I pressed my hands over my ears, but it made no difference; the cackling mutters built higher and higher until a single voice silenced them, its sibilant tones winding around me.

“Why do you fight this?”

I panted, trying to muster the energy to struggle, futile though I knew it was.

“Why do you reject all that I offer you?”

Lips moving in silence, tears welling, I prayed for it to be over already. The numbness was fading, agony washing back over me in slow pulses, tuned to the beats of my heart.

“You cannot win,” it hissed, hateful. Coils fell away, melting into a robe, nearly invisible in the blackness. Its hood was empty, a void, but even so I felt its gaze burning into me. Compelling me to stare back, my eyes riveted, unable to turn or blink. It reached one empty sleeve toward me, and I gasped as icy fingers penetrated my chest, closing around my heart.

“P-please,” I tried to beg, trembling, but my voice still refused to work.

“Pathetic,” sneered the figure, and the hand seized on my heart. I screamed silently as the organ collapsed in its grip, struggling to look away, to move my leaden limbs. Slowly my vision dimmed to black, and finally the freezing touch faded, the pain in my chest dulling, dwindling to a low pressure.

I blinked in the darkness, praying the terror was finally over. Slowly I became aware of hot breath on my neck and shoulder, something sitting on my chest and leaning over me.

_Please, go away,_ I silently begged. _I just want to wake up._

Its breath washed over my face, ilms away.

“You belong to us,” it whispered, and the weight disappeared from my chest. Lungs heaving, I tried to move my body, but it denied my control. I focused on my fingertips, telling myself if I could just twitch one finger, I’d be able to regain control. Heart racing, sweat breaking out, I fought until finally my sluggish limbs responded, my fingers clenching and unclenching a few times.

The spell finally broken, I heaved myself up by degrees, logy but desperate to get away from my bed and the lingering tendrils of the night terror.

Knowing if sleep managed to drag me back down, I’d be trapped in another torture session.

* * *

I didn’t bother rummaging up a light, navigating the path from my hut to the main house by memory and starlight. Shadows milled around the back door, muttering threateningly, but I pointedly ignored them, striding through as if they weren’t there. For everyone else, they weren’t, after all.

I made my way through the darkened kitchen, feeling my way to the icebox. There was still some milk in the jar, and I debated drinking it straight from the container. Temptation passed, and I found a mug, pouring the last of it in and deciding if I was going to be civilized, I might as well go all the way. I stirred a few fire shards in, waiting until a wisp of steam curled up before fishing out the leftover bits and taking a careful sip.

I saw light peep through the door to the hall and sighed, seating myself at the table. A few moments later my mom appeared in the doorway in her nightdress, holding a candle.

“Are you all right, sweetie?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

She sat down and reached across the table, taking my free hand and stroking it lightly. “I heard you screaming. You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know.”

I winced. In the terror, I hadn’t been able to make a sound. If only that had been the case in reality. “Sorry to wake you up.”

“You know I don’t mind. And your father slept right through it, never fear.” She gave my hand one last squeeze before releasing it. “Can I get you anything?”

The door to the outside banged loudly, and I jumped, turning. A hulking figure stood there, barely edged in candlelight, an axe in one hand resting on a broad shoulder. I shot a glance at my mom. She looked at me quizzically, then turned her gaze to the intruder, staring through him, unseeing.

I released a relieved sigh. _Just a hallucination._ I tried to ignore it as it stomped over, giving my mom a smile. “I’m fine. I just wish I had a place with…you know. A bit more solitude.”

Her eyes crinkled in concern. “I know you feel bad about all this, but you really shouldn’t. And I doubt being more isolated will help. I’m glad to have you here.” She patted my hand and stood, taking her candle back to her bedroom. I sat for a while in the gloom, finishing my milk and wishing I could afford my own place. A cottage, maybe, outside of Gridania proper, in the forest. Somewhere no one would have to hear me scream. But no one wanted to hire the “crazy girl,” and my freelance weaving didn’t bring home nearly enough for that. I’d inherit my parents’ house long before I saved up enough to buy my own.

The axe guy had left, but now the kitchen was filling up with oddly robed figures, just a bit too much like the one from my dream. I rinsed my mug and headed back to my cabin, heart beating just a little too fast. If sleep wasn’t a possibility for the next few hours, maybe I could get a little work done.

* * *

I tried to mask my weariness as the afternoon droned on. Sitting on a stool at my stall, I played my continual game, “Real or Hallucination.” Sometimes it was easy, like the gargoyle-esque creature with the bat wings and scythe pacing up and down the main thoroughfare, muttering to itself. Other times I would assume the person approaching my kiosk was a customer until tentacles sprouted from their cheeks or they vomited darkness all over the table.

I called it a game, but it was really a bit more than that. Making eye contact with customers, smiling, maybe saying a word of invitation, was good for business. Smiling and talking to hallucinations was…not. It was something I’d had a lot of practice with from a young age, and I was generally pretty good at it. When I wasn’t sure about someone, I could watch the way others reacted to them. Did they move aside to make space for them? Did they glance up to make eye contact, or walk by like there was nothing there?

Like the figure that had been staring at me from the far side of the market for a few minutes now. It wore white robes with some kind of pattern I couldn’t properly discern from this distance, but with the hood raised as it was, there was no saying if it was a person or a hallucination. I had my suspicions, though. Not once during any of the glances I’d sneaked had I noticed anyone else looking at it. Though neither had anyone walked through the space it occupied, which kept me peeking, curious. But the way its hooded gaze stayed fixed on me was enough to tip me toward guessing “hallucination.”

A customer drifted by my stall, and I did my quick scan—normal-looking Elezen, eyes on my wares instead of me, not acting threatening or ominous. I smiled.

“Welcome.”

He met my eyes with a return smile. I gestured at my table.

“Please let me know if you have any questions.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

I glanced away as he browsed, worried about making him self-conscious, and started on seeing the figure in white was approaching me. I let my eyes slide to the side, as though I’d just been scanning the marketplace. Some of my hallucinations got more aggressive if I interacted with them, so I generally tried not to.

The customer gave me a nod before moving on without making a purchase. Of course, I mused as the figure stopped at my table, sometimes ignoring them made no difference in their behavior. Up close the figure’s face looked human, though the weird red mask he wore that showed only the lower portion of his face and the spiky metal adornments on his robes drew none of the attention from passersby that they should have.

He tilted his head a few degrees, still staring at me. I continued watching the crowd as though I couldn’t see him. At least it wasn’t a mutterer or shouter, I thought with a smile. Those really got on my nerves after a while.

Still silent, the apparition turned its face down to look at my wares. He passed over the plain shirts and ponchos, the utility fabrics, pausing over one of my special pieces. More art than cloth, it was woven from a black yarn, with stylish, irregular gaps in the weave making it look somewhat like a demented spider’s web. I made these pieces as a creative outlet for my frustrations, and occasionally they would find favor as a shawl or throw, though I never sold them in any great number.

He ran a hand over it, the touch gentle, almost reverent, and I had a worried thought that the long metal claws of his gloves would tangle in or damage the delicate yarn. As I reminded myself that an apparition couldn’t really damage my work, he looked back at me, catching me staring. Beneath the mask, the lips stretched in a smile.

“So you _can_ see me.”

I jerked my head aside, heart pounding, praying it looked like I’d just been lost in thought, not interacting with a hallucination. In my peripheral vision, he straightened.

“You’re ignoring me? How impolite.” His voice was low, warm, almost paternal. When I gave no response, he walked in front of me. I stared steadily through him, trying not to focus on the delicate tooling on his odd, beaklike mask, the lavender-to-gold fade of the pattern on his robe.

A prospective customer drew near, and I tried to smile at her. She ducked my eye contact, hastening to the next stall. The apparition smiled. “Will you not at least give me your name?”

Frustrated, I sighed, fighting a powerful urge to tell the hallucination to leave me alone. His smile grew wider at the sound.

“Give me your blood.”

I started at a voice just over my shoulder, turning reflexively to see an impossibly slender, tall figure hunched over next to me. It reached clawed fingers—too many per hand—toward me entreatingly.

“Please,” it hissed. “You look so sweet, and I am so hungry.”

Jaw clenching in aggravation, I turned back to the front, breathing deeply and managing my facial expression until it was pleasantly neutral. The robed figure was no longer smiling, his expression unreadable behind the mask.

“I will have my curiosity sated.” The quiet tone belied the certainty of his words. “I will visit you again, child of darkness. And you _will_ speak with me.”

A wavering purple-black cloud swelled around him, engulfing him, then closed to nothing. I stared at the spot where he’d been, my heart in my mouth. The thing at my side kept asking for blood, but somehow I was more disturbed by the masked thing’s promise. Glancing around at the lengthening shadows and dwindling crowd, I decided to pack up a little early and head home.

* * *

Exhaustion drove me to swing by the apothecary for a sleeping draught. I’d made enough today that it didn’t feel like an extravagant indulgence. If I was lucky, it would gift me a night of dreamless sleep. Gods knew I needed one. I kept it tucked away in my pocket as I stowed my wares, not wanting my parents to see it and worry.

Dinner was a quiet affair, blessedly free of violent and noisy phantoms. Maybe I’d used up the day’s bad luck earlier. Somehow I doubted it. I helped tidy up the meal, then headed somewhat reluctantly to my hut. I was dreading opening the door, afraid my hallucination from earlier would be lying in wait for me. Sometimes they did that, coming back again and again. But to my relief the room was dark and silent.

I lit my lamp and sat down with my newest creation. I was experimenting with making an icicle-like jagged edge on a piece of pale blue fabric I’d made. It was an involved process, but I was finally getting the results I wanted. Once I started to yawn, I wrapped up my work, ready to go to bed. I stood up from my stool, stretching cramped muscles, turned, and screamed.

The white-robed figure was behind me. I staggered back a step, hand to my chest as I recovered my poise. Seemingly unaffected by my reaction, he stood with an air of stillness that made me think he’d been watching for a while. Growing angry at his intrusion and his expectant silence, I brushed past him, snatching up my nightdress and laying it out on the bed. I threw my clothes off, ignoring the prickling feeling of being watched, donned the nightgown, and shoved my clothing in the dirty hamper. I put the bottle of sleeping draught on the end table near my bed and sat down with a sigh.

He meandered over to loom above me. Too tired to pretend, I blinked up at him.

“What do you want?” I asked flatly, dispirited.

He smiled, seemingly pleased. “There, now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

I sighed. “Talking to my hallucinations in public—at work, no less—tends to cut into my profit margins. Don’t take it so personally.”

The smile dropped away. “Is that what you think I am? A product of your imagination?” I just stared at him, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. The faintest of frowns graced his lips. “I suppose I should expect naught but ignorance.” He bowed, surprisingly genteel. “I am Elidibus. Emissary of the one true god.” He rose, giving me an expectant look.

I sighed, falling back against the headboard of my bed. “Nice to meet you, Elidibus. I’m going to sleep now.”

“It is polite to share your own name when someone gives you theirs.”

Ignoring him, I reached for the vial beside my bed.

“What is that?” The sharp tone gave me pause.

“A sleeping draught. I can’t function another day without real sleep.”

He stepped up to the edge of the bed, suddenly threatening. “No. You will not pollute your body. Not until I’ve determined that you will not serve my purposes, at the least.”

I shook off my chill with a forced smile, reminding myself he couldn’t do anything. “Sure thing.” His posture relaxed a fraction. Rolling my eyes, I raised the vial again, tipping it back. He reacted faster than I would have thought possible, one gloved hand snapping out, knocking the bottle out of my hand. It bounced off the wall and shattered on the floor, liquid pooling out on the tiled stones.

I stared at it, horror freezing my guts. No hallucination could actually affect the world or me, though they could make me think they had for a while. But throbbing pain called my attention to a slice across my wrist from one of the sharp claws on his gloves. For one frozen moment I just stared, my brain trying to process what had just happened.

He made a sound of frustration, grabbing my wrist. I watched in disbelief as the skin knit together in front of my eyes.

“Ignorant child. You seek to drown the sacred dreams? Pathetic—and ultimately useless. The flow will not be dammed. Any attempt to do so will surely backfire.”

I tried to listen, to understand what he was telling me, but all I could think was that no hallucination had so much as pretended to heal me. Ever. He didn’t release my hand, and I raised my eyes to his—well, to his mask—trepidation making my pulse erratic.

He sighed, and his voice became gentle, a contrast to his firm grip on my wrist. “I will help you, if you work with me. If you are what I hope you are, it may be that you can learn to control the dreams—to direct the flow instead of being swept away by it.”

Moisture welled in my eyes, and I squeezed them closed. I was used to dire threats, horror and obscenity from the talkers. Somehow hope was even more cruel, more devastating. I breathed deeply, cementing in my head that what I thought I was feeling wasn’t real, that I wasn’t actually restrained, and lay back. My eyes flew open when my arm didn’t follow, still suspended by the wrist.

I stared up into the alien mask, realization dawning on me, with horror fast on its heels. I was already in the dream. I must have fallen asleep at my work, drifting into the dream realm so gently I hadn’t realized it at the time.

And now I was trapped. He tugged on my arm, not rough, but a clear indication of his displeasure. At least he wasn’t torturing me, I thought, a touch hysterically. I let him pull me back to a sitting position, staring at him fearfully. Normally the torment would have begun by now, but nothing about this dream, this apparition, was ordinary. So I just watched him, wary and afraid.

After a few moments he tilted his head. “You do not want help?”

I flushed at his mocking tone. “If I thought for a moment you could—and would—help me? Of course. But I’ve lived with this for twenty-three years. Nothing helps. _Nothing._” I blinked fast, trying to banish the swelling dampness in my eyes before it could spill out.

He studied me in silence. When he released my hand, I fell back against the bed in shock. He leaned over me, and I tried to sink further into the mattress.

“You want to sleep, child? Then sleep.”

He rested his gloved hand on my forehead, and oblivion dragged me under. A soft drift in warm, welcoming darkness, then I opened my eyes to morning light and birdsong. I lay there a minute, sorting through the odd dream. At least the sleeping draught had mostly worked. I felt well-rested, which was better than usual. I sat up, swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, and froze in disbelief.

The potion bottle was lying on the floor, shattered in a film of dried liquid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have to cut Elidibus a bit of slack here. He just lost Emet-Selch and is facing the complete extinction of his people. (And on top of that, this girl keeps ignoring and disrespecting him!)


	2. Chapter 2

I wandered to the house in a haze. Was I still dreaming? It didn’t seem like it. There was only the usual sort of hallucinations, no pain, no torture, none of the helplessness or inability to speak that I usually experienced. I tried, just to be sure.

“Hello! Good morning!”

It just didn’t feel like a dream. Which left…what? The assumption that the white-robed man was actually real, that he’d really been able to give me dreamless rest? Not to mention the possibility that he really could help me. I sighed. He obviously wanted _something _from me. I’d need to find out what so I could decide if it was worthwhile.

A tiny voice whispered that, when the dreams got bad enough, I’d pay any price for help.

My father was at the stove making breakfast when I stepped into the kitchen. Inhaling the heavenly scent of eggs frying, I gave him a quick one-armed hug.

“How did you know I was on the way over?”

He gave me a tolerant smile. “Hey. You’re in high spirits this morning.”

“I slept well last night. Amazing what that’ll do for your outlook on life.”

“Glad to hear it.” His smile dimmed. “Sleeping draught?”

I paused, unsure what to say, and his smile died the rest of the way. “No, actually.” He gave me a reproachful look. “I was going to—I had it ready and everything—but then…” I took a deep breath. “I’m not sure exactly what happened. But I never did drink the sleeping potion.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know what happened?”

I suddenly regretted saying anything; he had that bloodhound look in his eyes, and I knew he wouldn’t leave the topic alone until he was satisfied.

“I met someone. I think, anyway. At first I thought it was just another hallucination. But if so, there’s something very different about this one.” I hesitated. “He offered to help me. With my dreams. And then he did _something,_ I don’t know what, but it was the best sleep of my life.”

“Oh, honey…” He turned, engulfing me in a hug. “I’m so glad. I hope he can help you. Just be careful, okay?”

I rolled my eyes. “Give me some credit.”

He laughed and turned back to the stove, sliding a pair of fried eggs onto a plate and handing it to me. “Here. You’ll have to make your own toast, though.”

I laughed, leaning into him for another second. “I think I manage that.”

* * *

A soft sound made me glance up from my reading. A void opened and spat the white-robed man out, and I closed my book, setting it on the table beside the candle. I took a deep breath and stood up, coming over to him.

“I’m Nakisa. Sorry for ignoring you earlier. I genuinely believed you were just another hallucination.” He tilted his head with a slight frown, and I couldn’t help a laugh. “To be entirely honest, I’m still not quite sure you’re real. But after last night, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

At length he spoke. “You experience these hallucinations often?”

“Often? More like constantly.”

He seemed to mull this over for a minute. “What do you see now?”

I glanced around the room. “There’s some kind of animal corpse,” I pointed, “it’s been decaying unusually fast, and whimpering in pain the whole time. Plus the cloud of flies around it that keeps forming into a skull shape.” I turned to the table I’d been sitting at. “Some kind of tentacly thing pulled a chair up on the other side of the table and was imitating me while I tried to read. It’s just looking confused now, though.” It kept reaching out toward my book, then yanking its tentacles back as though touching it hurt. Weird. “And then there’s the usual shadows.”

“Shadows?” he inquired when I paused to count.

“It seems like any time there’s only one or two light sources near me, everything casts extra shadows. Like now, there’s the candle there, which casts my shadow here,” I gestured, “but I’ve also got four other shadows in various directions. Same for the table and chair. Sometimes some of the shadows move like their source is moving around, sometimes they’re all still.” I glanced at his shadow and my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. He noticed my sudden distraction and smirked.

“I take it I am an exception, then.”

I swallowed hard, still staring. He had no shadows at all. That couldn’t be normal, especially around me. I looked over at the tentacle thing, realizing I had never thought to pay attention to my hallucinations’ shadows. But it threw myriad silhouettes around it just like everything else in the room.

“You’re not exactly convincing me that you’re real right now,” I said, trying to make light of my sudden consternation.

He chuckled. “Were it not for your ignorance, you would find my lack of shadow to be absolute confirmation that I am real. Not to mention a clear indication of who and what I am.”

Something about the way he said it struck me as ominous. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “What are you, then? _Who_ are you?” I really needed to figure out what he wanted. This seemed like a good first step.

His smile faded as he regarded me thoughtfully. “I think it safe to assume you have not heard of the Ascians?”

I felt my eyebrow tilt upward. “The what?”

He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and widening his stance. “Players throughout the shadows of history. Puppeteers, some would call us, though we invariably hand man the reins and leave him to chart his own violent destiny. Sowers of the seeds of chaos…and reapers of the fruits of ruin.”

I blinked, a bit taken aback. “I see,” I said, even though I didn’t, and he smirked like he knew it.

“We are known also as the Paragons. The ideal to which man can only aspire.”

_And so modest_, I thought, suppressing an ironic smile. “A bit cryptic, but I think I get the general idea. Of course, this all begs the question of what you could possibly want from a crazy psychotic woman who can’t tell the difference between reality and hallucination.”

He regarded me in absolute seriousness, and my confidence, bolstered by sarcasm, quailed.

“There may be more to you than just that. I have been searching for…someone…for a long time. It may be that you are the one.”

“And if I’m not, then you have no use for me.”

He smiled. Without seeing the rest of his face, it was difficult to read the nuances of the expression, but I thought it was a hard smile.

“If you are willing to indulge me—if you undergo the necessary trials—I will do everything in my power to ensure that your dreams no longer torment you, even if you are not the one I seek.”

That was a bit more open-ended than I liked, but this guy seemed to like playing his cards close to his chest. “And the hallucinations?”

His smile dropped away. “I do not know from what source your hallucinations might spring. It is not something I have encountered before. As such, I am loath to make any promises regarding them. I will at least essay to learn more on the subject in case something can be done.”

I supposed that was all I could ask. I frowned, thinking. He seemed far more knowledgeable about my dreams than my hallucinations, which was odd because for me they were a package deal. Things I saw during the day would come to torment me at night, and often I would wake up from a nightmare or night terror to have whatever had been torturing me follow me for hours, threatening and taunting as I fought to stay awake so it couldn’t torture me more.

“I leave you to consider my offer. We will meet again soon.”

“Wait!” I raised a hand, and he stopped. “What are these trials you spoke of?”

The ghost of a smile brushed his lips. “All in good time. But be sure to take care of yourself. You will need all your strength to prevail.” He paused. “To that end, I will assist you in sleeping well again. Tomorrow will be a difficult day.” He reached out toward me, and I shrank back, visions of collapsing on the floor running through my mind.

“Let me lie down first?”

He seemed surprised. “Unnecessary. It is already done.”

“Oh.” I flushed. “Thank you. And, um, could you remind me of your name?”

“Elidibus.” With a dip of his head, he vanished.

“Elidibus,” I repeated to myself, trying to fix the name in my mind. I let myself fall into my chair, tired but too excited and anxious to sleep.

* * *

When I did go to bed, my dreams were unusual. Just as crystal-clear and real-feeling as ever, but there was no pain, no torment. Instead of being at its mercy, I seemed to be in control.

Shades still populated the vague, ever-shifting realm, but most of them seemed not to notice me. Some just watched my passage in silence, seeming almost…wary? Like I was the predator and they the prey. It was completely backwards from what I was used to.

I wandered through what seemed to be a forest mostly obscured by deep fog. There were no ordinary animals that I could see, though; everything had unusually shaped or missing limbs, or the wrong head, or was one of the more usual dark creatures I saw in my dreams and hallucinations. I slowed for a moment as I passed something identical to the tentacle mass that had been so interested in my book earlier. It withdrew into itself, wrapping writhing tendrils around itself to seem smaller. Shaking my head, I moved on.

The fog slowly darkened as I traveled, the trees coming less and less frequently, replaced by ruined walls and pillars, until it seemed I walked through the remnants of a once-great city shrouded in purple-black haze. The animal-things petered out as well, leaving just the usual horrors that ignored me, or stared—cowering, holding stock-still, or slinking away at my approach.

One thing caught my eye, a large winged creature with an upright torso terminating in two almost arm-like legs and a thick serpentine tail behind. Its face was monstrous, its maw filled with teeth, but its eyes gleamed with intelligence, and unlike the others, it watched me with interest, not concern. Curious, I stopped.

It acknowledge me with a nod. Both its arms and the weird legs were folded across its front, the leathery wings lowered in a relaxed, non-threatening pose, so I risked coming closer.

“Now this is a surprise.” Its voice was a warm, resonant contralto. “An unexpected reversal. I cannot help but wonder what has changed.” It leaned closer, seeming to peer at me. Heart thudding, I returned its scrutiny, wondering what it saw—what I looked like to the creature. “I sense,” it murmured, “the touch of another…” Leaning back, it pierced me with a pointed gaze. “I see you have found help. Not entirely unexpected, but there are a great many who will be displeased by this turn of events.”

“How—” I croaked, and cleared my throat. “How can you tell?”

“It is subtle,” came the reply, “for at first blush you seem to have come into your own power. But the power of another overlies you like a gossamer cloak, nearly invisible, so subtly it rests. But powerful nonetheless.” It tipped its head to the side. “Did you deal with one of my kind for strength, little raven?”

Throat still dry, I managed, “Your kind?”

“You mean you do not know? Ha!” It laughed, baring a maw full of daggers. “You should know better than to enter a deal you do not fully understand. As vast as that power might seem to you now, it is paltry compared to what you were surely asked in return. You should have come to _me._”

I crossed my arms. “I haven’t entered into any deals yet.”

“Then how could you have possibly come by such power?”

My eyes fell to the side. “I think it’s intended to coax me into accepting a deal. But nothing is set yet.”

It leaned closer, an eager gleam in its eyes. “Then consider treating with me instead. I can offer much more power than you carry now. What is your benefactor offering you?”

“He’s not offering me power. Not his power, I mean. He thinks he can teach me to control my dreams.”

It leaned closer, close enough to make me uncomfortable. “Who is it? What name, what kind of voidsent?”

_Voidsent?_ “He called himself a Paragon,” I said, unaccountably reluctant to give his name.

The thing hissed and recoiled from me. “Then…but what Paragon would lend such strength as a mere gift?” I shrugged, watching as it composed itself again. “Well, little raven, you are full of surprises. I am Lamashtu. Remember me when you come into the full of your power. And remember that I never feasted upon you when you were weak.” It grinned at me one last time before turning and thumping off, moving surprisingly fast despite its ungainly shape.

I stared after it until it disappeared into the weird fog, wishing I’d had the sense to ask it more about the Paragons. But something told me the information would have cost me. Chilled, I decided I’d done enough exploring for tonight. I tentatively tried withdrawing from the dream, and almost immediately it faded into darkness and silence.


	3. Chapter 3

To my surprise, the dream remained crystal clear the next morning. The few non-nightmare dreams I’d had always turned into a faded, jumbled mess within a few minutes of waking, only the terrors staying clear. But it hadn’t felt like a regular dream either. I pondered what it might mean as I ate breakfast. I wasn’t working today; the market ran every day, rain or shine, but weekends saw a lot lower sales for my goods, so I took them off or spent them weaving or sewing.

I doubted I’d get any work done today, though. Between the dream and Elidibus’s cryptic comment about today, anxiety and excitement were playing tug-o-war with my nerves. Even if whatever he had planned for me wouldn’t take long, I didn’t think I’d have the focus for any involved projects.

I decided to return to my hut, telling my parents I might go for a walk later so they wouldn’t worry if I left for a while. Which I had a feeling I might. Anxiousness rose to ascendance as I waited, and I pittered around with my loom trying to relieve it, not really accomplishing anything.

If my dream had been true and not just a product of my deranged imagination, then this Elidibus was a lot more powerful than I’d guessed. I wondered what the thing—Lamashtu—had meant by bringing up voidsent. Was Elidibus a voidsent, maybe? He didn’t look like what I’d expect from the stories I’d heard, but those were just stories. Who knew how much truth was in them, if any? Certainly not I. And who knew what the robes and mask were hiding?

My thoughts were cut short by his arrival through a nearly-silent void. I dropped the shuttle and turned toward him, my heart speeding up. He took two steps toward me, stopping in the center of the room.

“Are you ready?” he asked without preamble.

I nodded. “Yes. Um, for what exactly?”

“I shall first administer a preliminary test of sorts. If you cannot pass it, then it is a certainty that you are not the one I seek. I have confidence you will pass, though. Once you do, I will reveal the truth of this world to you, and you will decide your future. Your fate.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “What should I do?”

“Do not let fear overwhelm you. Darkness is an instinctive fear for your kind, but it will not hurt you.”

I frowned. He put the faintest emphasis on “you,” so subtle I half-doubted I’d heard it. I wondered if he knew how little fear the dark held for me; my hallucinations, my dreams, embodied terror and the unknown far more than mere darkness ever could. As long as I was awake, my hallucinations couldn’t hurt me, so darkness just gave me a reprieve from having to see them.

“Do not fight, but embrace it. Let it wash over and into you. If you can do that, then you may be what I seek.”

He raised his hand until his arm was extended nearly straight above him, the claw-tipped fingers pointing upward, splayed as though cupping something. I gasped as a bright red symbol flared into existence before his face, flaming and birdlike. I tried to follow its intricate lines, its upswept wings, but gathering shadows pulled my attention behind him.

He threw his head back, and a pair of wings coalesced at his shoulders, as dark and starry as the night sky. I gaped as they snapped open, spreading, filling the small room. They curved around, growing, encircling me. My heart jumped into my throat as they engulfed me fully, leaving me in utter blackness.

This was not ordinary darkness; instead of a mere absence of light, this darkness roiled with power, potential, danger. And I was afraid. But I took a deep breath, reminding myself of his words and of the power—apparently significantly more than I would have guessed—he’d shared to have the opportunity to try this. He must truly believe I could pass this test.

So I took one last deep breath and made myself stop resisting, tried to open myself to the fury raging around me. As though it had been waiting for this moment, for any point of ingress, it poured in, washing through me, sweeping me away. I gasped, reaching out blindly as my balance faltered, then strong arms caught me, holding me secure. I trembled as the darkness flooded me, as I struggled with clinging fear, trying to pry it loose and fling it off me. The supporting embrace helped, and finally I shed the last of my terror, reaching out to the power.

As I touched it, a pure note sounded, seemingly from within my soul. It grew in strength, resonating with and reverberating through the darkness around me. I cried out, a wordless sound of surprise and joy, and the arms around me tightened at the same moment. Slowly the torrent lessened, the darkness lifting until I could see again.

Elidibus was holding me in his arms, supporting and stabilizing me, his wings still arching over us both. They drew back slowly, darkness and starlight dripping and dissipating from them. Feeling me straighten, he released me and stepped back.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his tone reverent. I glanced down at myself, seeing nothing unusual, then followed his wave as he gestured at my mirror. Crossing to stand before it, I gasped. I, too, had wings of purest darkness, small and fading but unmistakable. For a moment he stood framed perfectly behind me, white robes shining, wings overshadowing mine, and then they fully disappeared, leaving us as we’d been.

“How do you feel?”

“Good. Better than usual.” I turned to face him, unable to hold back my smile. He smiled in return.

“That is as it should be. Come; it is time I revealed to you the truth that lies at the heart of this world.” He held a hand out to me, and I took it gingerly, mindful of the sharp claws. I gasped as the void took us, and airless silence swallowed the noise.

* * *

We returned to reality on the shattered remnants of a high cliff overlooking a broad plain. I looked out over the remnants of mechs and twisted airships, scorch marks and great protrusions of crystal. A war zone.

“Where are we?” I asked, dread souring my gut. I suspected I knew the answer.

“Carteneau,” he said, and the dread solidified. “The epicenter of the last Ardor, what you would call the Seventh Umbral Calamity.”

I took a deep, shuddering breath as I looked out over the devastation. “Why did you bring me here?”

“All will become clear,” he said. “But I would start at the beginning, at the time you would consider before time. The world you know now is but a fragment of the true world, and it is only through the ceaseless efforts of we Ascians that it has been partially restored.

“In the time before the Sundering, all mankind lived in peace, prosperity, and harmony with one another. For time untold, all was right. But one day destruction fell upon us, rising from the very ground. It began small in scale, but soon spread to engulf the star, shattering our civilization and slaughtering our peaceable people. We cast about desperately for a means of salvation, finally deciding to imbue the star itself with will.

“Thus was born Zodiark, the one true god. He was able to stop the impending doom and restore the star…but such acts required an enormous reserve of aether. The land, wracked with calamity, would not have had nearly enough, and such a drain would have finished the extinction the calamity began. In the end, three-quarters of our people gave their lives over so the rest would not be obliterated.”

He fell silent, staring into the distance. Eyes wide and heart beating hard, I watched him as his hands flexed once, twice. His tale was incredible. I wanted to disbelieve, to call it impossible. But his anguish, his helplessness, was plain, even hidden as he was, laid bare in his silence and the immutable truth spoken by his body’s unconscious gestures.

The silence stretched on, and I wondered if he’d forgotten my presence. I stepped closer, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, hating the platitude but unable to find the words I wanted. He turned slightly at my touch.

“Their sacrifice bought life for the remnant of our people.” His voice was low, quiet. “In return we decided to nourish the star’s life, then sacrifice a portion of that life to restore them. But some were discontent with the plan. They created Hydaelyn, imbuing Her with the power to attenuate His strength, to divide Him. They fought…and She won. But when She finally divided and banished Him, she sundered _all_ of Him…to include the star itself. Thus was the world divided into fourteen shards, and all upon the land likewise split into fractions of what they had been.

“Three of us escaped that fate, to include myself. We discovered that we could rejoin the severed fragments to the Source and set about doing so.” He turned away from the drop, facing me fully. “These events, these Rejoinings, are what you term calamities.”

My hands flew to my mouth, and I stared at him in horror. _“You_ cause the calamities? But _why?”_

His lips tightened. “Move past your emotions and recall my explanation. You will understand once you do.”

I forced myself to breathe more slowly, blinking, going back through his words. “To rejoin these shards, I get that. But the death toll…”

“Every time a shard is reunited with the Source, the Lifestream, divided by Hydaelyn, merges along with it, and every soul on the Source grows stronger—more capable, more complete. Once every shard is rejoined, your soul, your being, will be as whole as mine. What’s more, Zodiark will then have the strength to shatter His prison and return, paving the way for the resurrection of the sacrificed.”

“But how can you countenance the deaths of untold innocents with each calamity?”

“Fragmented souls lack the capacity for compassion and empathy that they would have were they complete. Again and again, you cause avoidable tragedies, indescribable cruelties, suffering that would have been unimaginable when the star was whole. Rejoining may be a bitter medicine, but it will cure the illness so rampant throughout fragmented humanity.

“What’s more, death is not the end; thanks to Hydaelyn’s enervation, your short lifespans demand commensurately high birth rates. A soul often barely bathes in the Lifestream before returning to be reborn—especially here on the Source, where Hydaelyn manipulates its streams. In the end, nothing is truly lost, and after each Ardor you grow stronger.” He smiled. “And She grows weaker.”

“Still,” I said, looking out over the wreckage around us, “it seems so…cold. So uncaring, for someone who claims to be complete.”

He was silent for a while. “Mayhap someday you will see our society reborn. As one of the gifted, eternity is within your grasp. If you do, you will understand the value of the sacrifices required—both those given and those needed to return them. You cannot conceive of perfection, never having witnessed it.”

I crossed my arms, letting his words sink in. Maybe he was right, and I was just too ignorant to get it, my scope of view too narrow. But I just wasn’t convinced that the calamities were in any way acceptable losses. I grimaced. I really did want to learn control over my dreams, but, gods, what a price.

“Come here,” Elidibus said, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Look to the south, near the wreckage of the large airship.”

Reluctantly, I joined him at the cliff’s edge, following his gaze to the area he had described.

“What do you see?”

Frowning, I peered more closely. “It looks like…ruins of some kind. A wall, a stretch of floor…” I twisted back toward him. “Are those Allagan ruins?”

“They are. And that is not the only place you can see them from this vantage.”

I looked around with new eyes, now spotting hexagonal floors here, undamaged red structure veined with yellow there. “It’s all over the place,” I whispered. “Was it always here?”

“It was. The Seventh Umbral Calamity brought more than death and destruction. It uncovered remains of ancient civilizations, most notably Allag, full of enough tantalizing knowledge that the allegedly peaceable city-states of Eorzea had to resort to war-games to decide control over them…lest they go to war with one another in truth.”

I kept my eyes trained on the scene below me, stomach churning. I’d heard about the war games, of course, but everything I’d heard about the other powers in Eorzea had been of strengthening bonds and ties. The idea of war was…disturbing. But looking down at the innumerable ruins below, I realized he was surely telling the truth.

“I am certain you noticed, in the aftermath of the calamity, how mankind came together, setting aside the usual petty differences and expectation of recompense in order to help those in dire need. How innumerable heroes rose up to defend or organize or rebuild, with no thought of fame or fortune, no desire beyond a wish to help others.”

I nodded, remembering those terrifying, tumultuous days. The world seeming so much smaller and yet more frightening than ever. I had tried to do my part, small as it had been, and I still remembered the smiles, the gratitude, of those I had been able to help.

“More caring, more generosity, would you not say, than man has ever exhibited in the past?”

My brows drew together. “Well, yes. But—you mean that happened because our souls got stronger?”

“Yes. That is to say, man has ever drawn together in the face of adversity; even the smallest fragments of soul show true in this tendency, for the large part. But these depths of generosity, of fraternity, are new. As are the fledgling alliances growing across the land—between your Eorzean states, with Ishgard, and now with Ala Mhigo and Doma. Such close ties would have been impossible to maintain before the calamity—before the ability of your souls to forge genuine ties with others was expanded.”

I stared at him, blinking, utterly speechless. He smiled back in silence, letting me process his words. At length I shook my head, trying to regain some sense of logic. Below us, figures so small as to be nearly invisible lined up behind toothpick and scrap standards. At some predetermined signal, they spilled forward, tearing through each other in mad pursuit of some miniature goal. I watched for a time, then turned back to Elidibus.

“You said something earlier about my gift. What did you mean?”

“The gift of which I spoke, the Echo, is the reason you can see me. It can do much more than that, once trained.” He smirked. “I would ask if you’ve ever unexpectedly experienced someone else’s memories, but I suppose such an event might be difficult for you to distinguish from your…constant difficulties. Should you join yourself to our cause, you will learn to use it, and it is with your gift that you will gain mastery of your dreams. Perhaps even of your waking visions, if that is what your hallucinations are.

“It is this same gift which grants you the possibility of perpetuity. A complete soul like mine does not fade with age, as your attenuated souls do. Being unsevered, I can raise up the soul of one with the gift, granting them the same longevity and a much greater portion of their original power. Indeed, we could not well complete our great work without such longevity, since calamities are decades or centuries in the making.”

I digested this in silence, perturbed. I desperately needed to find some way to manage my dreams; the stress, the lost sleep, the emotional toil was assuredly shortening my life even as it diminished its quality. And the possibility of eternal life was certainly intriguing—as long as it was free of the tyranny of my hallucinations and dreams.

“I need to think about it,” I said.

He nodded, seeming unsurprised. “Of course.” I took his extended hand, and darkness engulfed us once more, leaving us back in my room when it abated. “I leave you with one last word: we Ascians arrange the calamities, set up conditions to cause the Rejoinings…but we do not initiate them. Once the seeds are sown, we leave them for man to tend. It is always he who initiates the calamities, not us; our hands remain unbloodied.” He dipped his head and disappeared, leaving me in a whirlwind of my own thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you feeling alright, Nakisa?”

Reverie broken, I looked up at my dad. “Just got a lot on my mind.” He nodded, giving me a kind smile. He puttered around the kitchen for a minute, and I decided I’d had enough of running circles in my head. I took a deep breath. “You busy right now?”

“Not really.” He set down the rag he’d been using and turned to face me.

“So, it sounds like that guy I told you about can help me learn to control my dreams, at least to a degree. The way he tells it, it sounds like my dreams might even be important. Like, somehow I can use them to make the world a better place.” I spread my hands. “As far as I can tell, he wants me to use my dreams to help him fix the world. But he’s been pretty vague on exactly how that would work.”

Dad sat at the table, his forehead creasing. “I’d love to believe that your dreams aren’t just a stroke of terrible luck. That they could be something good. But don’t forget that the hope that they might get better makes you vulnerable to manipulation. What has he promised you, exactly? What was his offer?”

“Information, basically. He says I’ve got a gift, and that, if I learn to use it, it will help me control my dreams.” I hesitated a second. “He actually gave me a bit of a demonstration last night. I don’t know how he did it, but I was in control of the dream, and the things that usually torment me were there, but they seemed afraid. Of me. And it wasn’t a regular dream, I don’t think. It’s still clear in my memory.”

He sat back, crossing his arms. “Information is pretty innocuous, all things considered. Hard to abuse that, and with something like teaching you control over your dreams, it’ll be obvious pretty quickly if he’s being dishonest with you.” He gave me a wry smile. “You should trust your instincts, of course, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

I nodded. “I think he’s being honest with me, though I doubt he’s told me everything.” I bit my lip. “He seems very interested in increasing man’s potential.”

“Well, you know my views on that. If we aren’t striving to get better, then what’s the point of living?”

I nodded my agreement. “It’s just…his example was the events right after the calamity, a couple years back. And he had a point; we really seem to do our best in the face of terrible adversity. I don’t know if that says something about him, or about mankind.”

“Mankind, I should think,” he said, shaking his head. “Not that anyone wants a calamity, but we wouldn’t be where we are today if it hadn’t happened. From what I hear, the Eorzean Alliance has actually managed to push the Empire back in Ala Mhigo. We couldn’t have done it without the support of our Ishgardian and Doman allies, not to mention the Ala Mhigans themselves.”

I almost shared what Elidibus had told me, about our souls being broken into pieces, but I wasn’t sure I fully believed it myself, and I didn’t know how he would react. Instead I said, “That’s more or less what he was saying. That something like a calamity or other tragedy was never all one thing, but that good could come from even something as awful as that.”

“An uncommon perspective, and certainly an interesting one. I hope I get to meet him someday.”

I shrugged. “He comes across as pretty secretive, but I can see if he’ll agree to meet you. I’d like that anyway, just so you know who he is.”

“I wonder if I already know him. I’ve got quite a few contacts—I’ve asked around extensively about your condition, looking for a cure or anything that might help. It may be that someone had a solution and opted to approach you directly, instead of going through me. What does he look like?”

I waved my hands in a helpless shrug. “He wears a hooded cloak and a mask. His chin looks like a Hyur’s, pale-skinned, and his voice sounds male. That’s all I can say.”

“Hah! You weren’t kidding when you called him secretive, were you?” His mirth faded. “I know I’ve said it already, but be careful. It sounds like he’s got something to hide. If at any point you don’t feel safe, get out. I’ve got friends in the Adders and the Wood Wailers. They’ll help you if necessary. That said, he may have perfectly legitimate reasons for hiding his identity. You’ve got good instincts about people. Just remember, your mom and I will always support you, no matter what.”

“Thanks,” I told him, smiling, an ache settling in my chest. I stood up and slipped out the door with a backwards wave. Once in my hut, I glanced around, apprehensive even though I’d made my decision.

“Elidibus?” I called. A minute passed with no response, and I sighed. At least it seemed he wasn’t stalking me every second of the day. I knew he’d return eventually, so I sat down to get some work done in the meantime. Late afternoon shadows grew, slowly swallowing the world in darkness as the last light faded from the sky. I lit my lamp and worked into the night, but he didn’t arrive. Finally I had to go to bed, and it was with trepidation that I let unconsciousness draw me under.

* * *

I shivered, curled tight, my fingers and toes and ears and nose so cold they felt like they were on fire. I tried to contract tighter as clawed hands closed on me, lifting me as though I weighed nothing, and dragged me through the endless blank cold.

But apparently it was only endless when I tried to move through it, for soon I was sliding over sharp icy rock. The change in agony was enough to rouse me from my stupor, and I threw my limbs out, trying to stop myself and break the grip on me. Predictably, it didn’t work, but the thing dragging me had to change its hold, and I was able to see it.

What there was to it, anyway. It was little more than a man-shaped waver of darkness, similar to the eerie dark mist I’d walked through the previous night, though darker and more concentrated. Even though I could clearly feel the hands on me, when I looked down at them they were unformed wisps of smoke.

I managed to gain my feet, sparing myself the pain of being dragged over the cruel ground, but the darkness drew me stumbling onward, inexorable in its progress. The chill faded from ground and air, leaving dead earth and rock. A soft muttering rose, and I realized the dark thing was speaking. Whether to itself or me I couldn’t tell, though, since I couldn’t understand its words.

A cave loomed ahead, the interior pitch-black, and fear drove me to dig my heels in. For a moment our forward progress stopped, but it gave a firm yank, and I stumbled, scraping knees on the harsh ground, crying out as it continued to drag me. Utter darkness swallowed me, and it threw me down onto the ground, an invisible weight pinning me.

A soft, rhythmic sound began, one I identified as hands digging in soil. Terror choked me, leaving me paralyzed for precious minutes. I fought through it, breathing, focusing, reminding myself that the darkness had not hurt me before, with Elidibus. To my surprise, as the fear faded I found I could see dimly. The thing had severed a piece of its darkness to pin me down and was digging what could only be a grave. I struggled futilely for a while, unable to break free.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?”

I thought my words left my mouth without trouble; I heard their faint reverberation off the cave walls. But the figure gave no indication that it could hear me. I reached out toward the hole, shoving a few handfuls of earth back in it. It noticed this, turning and giving a low, gurgled hiss. More dark mist streamed from it, a second pair of hands pinning me as it returned to its work.

Desperate to escape before it finished digging, I continued my futile struggle, tears streaming down my cheeks. It rose from its crouch and came over, its segments joining together, dragging me to the edge of the grave. My nails scrabbled in the soft dirt, finding no purchase, and it pulled me down into the pit with it.

I changed my tack, lashing out at the vague figure, scratching and gouging. A few blows struck into invisible flesh, but then my hands slipped through smoke, unable to find further purchase. It pinned me to the wall of the pit and bent, rising up with something—black cloth—in its murky grip. It spread it out, pushing it toward me.

A cloak, I realized, as it pulled one of my arms out and forced the sleeve over. I redoubled my struggle, not understanding what it was doing but not liking it one bit. It didn’t slow the dark figure much, and when it drew the garment closed and reached up for the hood I scrabbled at the front, trying to pull the lapels apart. But there was no longer an opening there; my fingers passed over unbroken fabric, and then the hood fell low, cutting off my sight.

I screamed, reaching to pull the hood off, and hands seized my wrists. I wrenched, trying to free them, and it knocked me down to the bottom of the grave, its improbable weight pinning me. The reek of moldering dirt filled my nostrils, stifling me. The thing pawed at me, and I screamed again, trying to push it off me, sobbing from fear and fury. Its breath sounded in my ear, harsh, panting, and then suddenly the weight was gone.

“Nakisa!”

I flailed, fighting my way out of the cloak, faintly realizing it wasn’t dark anymore. Elidibus’s mask appeared above me, and I slowed, confused.

“Are you all right?”

I realized what I had thought to be the cloak was actually my blanket. I was in my room, probably awake. Trying to still the desperate gasps of my breathing, I nodded.

The corners of his lips drew down, and I realized he had sounded concerned. I took a deep breath, clearing my throat lightly.

“Just a nightmare. I’m fine.”

The frown didn’t clear as he studied me. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, reaching a clawed glove toward my face. I tried not to flinch as he touched my cheek; the golden brown leather came away dark from moisture. I put together a smile.

“I mean it. This sort of thing happens all the time.”

After a moment he nodded reluctantly, the frown lingering as he stepped back, out of sight. I sat up, taking a deep breath and stretching, shaking off the remnants of the nightmare. I did a double-take at a darker spot in one corner of the room; one of the shadows there had an odd waver that reminded me eerily of the dark figure from my dream. Even as I stared, though, it faded to no more than a deeper darkness, almost imperceptible.

“I believe another presence was in your dream with you.”

“What?” I twisted toward Elidibus. “What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms, silent in thought, and I stood up to find some clothes. When he finally spoke, his cadence was unusually hesitant.

“I am not sure. I thought I sensed _something…_ but I cannot say so with certainty, nor can I guess what it might have been.” I turned back, outfit in hand, to find him scowling.

I remembered the previous dream, the ruined city, the odd Lamashtu creature. “Voidsent?” I wondered.

He shook his head, the motion sharp, decisive. “No. I know the aetheric signature of voidsent. This was nothing like that.” He sighed. “It was almost as if the land’s aether created an avatar of sorts. But such a thing has certainly never occurred before; it should be impossible.”

I smiled, offering a shrug. “Probably not worth worrying about it. Weird stuff seems to happen around me.”

He raised his head, fixing me with a look completely undiminished by the mask. “You do not understand. I have lived for a time unimaginable to you. I was a renowned scholar even before the world was sundered. A thing such as this _should not be outside my knowledge._”

A little chilled by his sudden intensity, I turned toward the bed, laying my clothing out. I glanced back, hesitant to change in front of him now that I knew he was real, and found him turned away, head bowed in thought. I took advantage of his distraction, getting dressed hurriedly. He pulled out of his reverie when I crossed in front of him to my mirror to put my hair up.

“As fascinating and infuriating as this mystery might be, I originally came here to see if you had an answer for me yet.”

“Oh, right.” I met his gaze through the mirror. “The answer is yes. I want to learn to use my gift. I want to learn to control my dreams.” I gave him a hesitant smile. “And if I can help fix the world, too, so much the better.”

“This path will require that you dedicate yourself to our cause. You will be able to visit your family, of course, but you will often be too busy or distant to do so.” He paused. “Of course, this presumes you complete the trials; if you do not, I will simply return you to your family’s care. But I dare to hope you will succeed, and I would not set you on this path with no understanding of the sacrifice it will require, the difficulty inherent to it. It will ultimately be worth all the pain and effort, once the star is made whole and the lost in Zodiark restored. That said, it will likely be centuries more before our goals are fully realized. Centuries of planning, manipulation, and striving against the enemy’s servants and unwitting dupes.”

I turned around to face him. The severity of what I was about to do hung over me, making my heart beat fast. Shadows danced at the room’s periphery, as though a bonfire raged at its heart where Elidibus stood. But the fact that he didn’t sugarcoat his words despite how badly he wanted me to join his cause was surprisingly reassuring. He wasn’t trying to manipulate me, as my dad had worried, but giving me all the information—well, not _all_, but enough to make an informed decision.

In the end, the chance to be a part of something greater than myself was all I’d ever wanted. And like my dad loved to say, nothing worth doing was ever easy. “I want to do this. I’m willing to make whatever sacrifices are necessary.”

He smiled. “Thank you.” The words were soft, solemn. Heartfelt. He held a hand out to me.

“Would it be all right if I said goodbye to my parents? I don’t want them to worry.”

“That will be fine.”

I turned toward the door, then paused. “I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

“I doubt they could.”

_What?_ “Well, I’d really appreciate it if you came along.” I made my way to the house, and to my relief he followed silently.

“Mom? Dad?” I called as I entered. Mom was already in the kitchen, standing at the sink.

“What is it, honey?”

“I just wanted you to know I’m leaving. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’ll try to be in touch when I can.” She stared at me, blinking, and raised one hand to her chest. My dad appeared in the doorway. The stricken look on his face told me he’d heard what I’d said, though he hid it immediately. He cleared his throat.

“Be careful, okay? And try to write when you can.”

“I’ll do my best.” I turned back, waving toward Elidibus. “This is Elidibus. He thinks he can teach me to control my dreams.”

My parents both frowned, staring past him.

“Who are you talking about, sweetie?”

My stomach plummeted. I twisted further and pasted a frown onto my face. “Oh, I thought he was right behind me. Sorry. Anyway, it sounds like I’ll be gone for a while, and I didn’t want you guys to freak out.”

My mom wiped her hands and came over, giving me a tight squeeze. “I love you, Nakisa. Don’t stay away too long, all right?”

I hugged her back. “I love you too, Mom. Don’t worry about me.”

My dad gave me a quick hug as well. “Do you need help packing or anything? How will you be traveling?”

“I’m all good to go. I think we’ll actually be teleporting.” I forced a smile. “I’m excited.” Dad headed toward the back door, and my eyes bugged despite my attempts to control my expression as he headed straight toward Elidibus. But he stopped short just before walking through him, a frown wrinkling his brow.

“Please, take care of yourself. And remember what we talked about. We’ll always have your back.” He walked around Elidibus and opened the door for me.

I couldn’t keep my eyes from darting to the white-robed man. I didn’t think my father had even been aware he’d walked around him, but he _had_. And now I didn’t know what to think once again. I put on a brave face as I made my final goodbyes, slumping as soon as I was out of my parents’ sight.

Once more Elidibus extended his hand. I turned the force of my fury, my bewilderment, on him.

“What in the hells was _that?_ Just when I decide you’re real and agree to go with you…” I grimaced, threading my hands in my hair and tugging at my scalp.

“Your gift lets you see me, even though you lack knowledge. Without either the knowledge, the understanding, of who and what I am, or the gift, the mind cannot comprehend, and thus insists it sees nothing. So it is for all but a few.”

I put my face in my hands. What was I doing? What had I agreed to? I gasped when I felt his hands touch the sides of my face.

“Do I not feel real to you, Nakisa? Do I behave like your hallucinations?”

“I don’t know any more,” I moaned, and he released my face, drawing me against him. We were nearly of a height, and his hand guided my head to rest against his cheek through the hood. I felt his heart beat against my breast, and for reasons I couldn’t explain the normality of it helped to calm me. I focused on breathing, keeping my eyes closed.

Cool power enveloped me gently, the unmistakable brush of his wings curving around me. I opened my eyes and drew back to look at them. He smiled.

“You were able to sense that?” I nodded. “That is good. You have a natural aptitude with your gift.” The smile faded. “Have you changed your mind?”

I took a deep breath, stepping back to stand on my own. “No. I just…freaked out a little. Sorry. I guess I still don’t really understand.”

The smile returned, gentle. “In time, you will.” He held out his hand once more, and this time I took it.


	5. Chapter 5

I stared around in amazement, craning my neck as the darkness faded to reality. We stood in some kind of ruined amphitheater overgrown by masses of dark crystal. I hurried after Elidibus, following him toward one such formation. Here the crystals flowed over an ancient floor before curving up along a wall and sweeping overhead almost like a wave, graceful and glimmering. He planted his feet on the crystal, folding his arms, and I came to a stop beside him.

“What now?” I asked, still distracted by the view around us. I had no idea where we might be; my few travels had definitely never brought me here before.

“Some of my comrades will arrive soon to assist me in administering your next trial.”

“What will that involve?”

He turned to face me. “I do not know. It is not given to His servants to know the trials of the Word. You will have to figure it out on your own. But I will be with you, to the extent that I am able; I will guide you to the place your path begins and share what power I can with you.”

I nodded, biting my lip. My worries were interrupted by a portal opening up nearby. I turned to see another robed and masked figure, though both robe and mask were different. The robe especially; it was black instead of Elidibus’s white, with less gold and a different pattern.

He acknowledged Elidibus with a nod before turning to me and giving me a bow. “I am Pashtarot.”

“Nakisa. Nice to meet you.”

He smiled. “So you are the one who has our emissary’s feathers in a ruffle.” He studied me, and I fought off self-consciousness, wondering what he was looking for. He turned to Elidibus. “You think this soul will avail for our purposes?”

“I believe so.”

Pashtarot turned back to me, continuing to look me over. “I shall have to take your word for it, I suppose. I do not see the hint that you do.”

Elidibus came to stand beside him. “It seems Hydaelyn did not see it either, fortunately for us. But if you would like to see, I can show you what to look for.” At Pashtarot’s nod he placed a hand on his shoulder. Pashtarot raised his hand, letting fingertips rest on the forehead of his mask. His lips compressed, then parted a few seconds later as his jaw dropped.

“Ahhh,” he said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his tone. Elidibus smiled, letting his hand drop to his side again.

“What?” I asked, curiosity spurring on nervousness. “What do you see?”

Pashtarot looked to Elidibus, who spoke. “I told you that I can raise up those with the gift. That is true of _any_ with the gift, but I do not do so without good reason. The process is not foolproof and demands a lot of power, and for most souls there is no guarantee they would serve our cause faithfully. Fragments of the souls which originally summoned Zodiark, on the other hand, are guaranteed to succeed, and can be returned to their previous office with relative ease.”

“So am I one of these fragments, then?”

There was the barest pause before he responded. “No. It was thirteen of us who summoned Him; your soul was not one of these. But…” He frowned, searching for words. “When we summoned Him, he marked us—claimed our souls, binding our wills to His. When the others were sundered, the bonds were destroyed, but not the claim. Even if I did not know the souls of my fellow Ascians by sight, I could recognize them by the imprint of His glory upon their souls. Your soul does not bear this imprint like ours do. But there is something…a hint of that same glory, a delicate tracery through your soul. It is so faint that I nearly did not recognize it. I do not know how He might have touched you, but it means you carry a potential within you that no other has—not even we Ascians.”

He smiled. “I am sure the delicacy of its touch is the reason Hydaelyn did not hold your soul back from being reborn the way She does the souls of Ascians here on the Source. As such, your soul is many times stronger than the fragments we usually uplift. This opportunity is unprecedented, so I do not know precisely what effect your stronger soul will have. But it can only be beneficial to the process.”

“So that’s what you’ll be doing to me?” I paused as darkness swirled and another robed figure arrived. “Raising me up?” This one’s robes were identical to Pashtarot’s, though the mask was unique.

“In essence. The process will be a little different for you.”

Before I could ask how, the newly arrived figure spoke. “Apologies for my tardiness.” The voice was female, high-pitched and clear. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes,” Elidibus said and gestured to me. “You’ll want to sit down.”

I took a seat on the crystal, glancing up at the sound of a portal. Three more robed figures appeared one after another, weirdly indistinct.

“How many of you are there?”

“In total?” Elidibus lowered himself to a knee on one side of me. Pashtarot did the same on my other side. “There are six of us active at the moment.”

I frowned as something began oozing up from the ground. It coalesced into a smoky figure similar to the one from my dream, though this one seemed to be shrouded in a cloak. Pashtarot put a hand on my shoulder, causing me to start, but Elidibus paused before doing the same, frowning at me.

“Is aught amiss?”

I shook my head. “I just wasn’t expecting an audience.”

“Audience?” he repeated. I waved to the figures, and his frown deepened. “There are none here save the three of us and yourself.”

“Right,” I said tersely, staring. “Forget I said anything.”

From behind me, I heard the woman sigh. Elidibus laid his hand gently on my shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

“Close your eyes and endeavor to open yourself as you did when I tested you before.”

I did as he asked, breathing slowly to force myself to calm down. Cool, welcoming darkness swirled around me, slow at first but gaining in volume and momentum. I let it drain into me. It was much easier, having done it before, and I reached out boldly to touch it this time.

Again it rang at the contact, like the toll of a great, distant bell, but this time it didn’t stop; the rush continued, picking up pace, and the resonation built on itself, volume swelling, swamping me in noise until it seemed the ground beneath me trembled with it. Gasping, I raised my hands to my ears, but it made no difference; the noise was coming from within me.

The roaring consumed me, my thoughts dimming beneath its furious onslaught, and I distantly heard Elidibus speak.

“Have faith, Nakisa. Do not be afraid.”

The pressure overwhelmed me, and everything faded.

* * *

Soft, comfortable, drift. Like an armless embrace, an absent parent’s love, always wrapped around invisibly no matter the distance. I sighed, and it made no sound. I tried to settle deeper into the stately, restive calm.

Something bore me up, gently but firmly lifting me to full consciousness. I sighed again and opened my eyes, exasperated. Then I blinked, for the darkness changed not a bit with the action. I raised my hands to rub my eyes. I_ did;_ I _know_ I did, but I couldn’t feel anything at all, not even myself. Fear rose, and my heart sped up, my breath coming fast, and _I could not feel it._

I don’t know how long I panicked, but eventually I became aware of something I _could_ feel—that feeling of being buoyed up, like a balloon anchored at the center of my soul. I focused on it, reminding myself that Elidibus had promised to be there as much as he could. Slowly I recovered my calm, beginning to look around.

Though I seemed to have no body, it felt like I could move, although turning in a circle showed more unrelieved nothing. _This is a test of some sort,_ I reminded myself, and looked harder. Turning in every direction showed more nothing, though. I stilled, looking instead within.

I remembered the booming resonance that had overcome me and tried to recall it, tried to recreate it in my mind. My nonexistent heart slowed to match its pulses, and then I felt/heard it—a faint echo, a direction. Elated, I turned and went that way.

Time loses its meaning without a frame of reference. There were no seconds, no minutes, no hours as I traveled. No days. When change came, I didn’t expect it, so I didn’t notice it. I focused everything I had on the faint resonance in me, slowly growing stronger. My hair tickling my nose was an unwelcome distraction, and I batted it aside irritably. Then I blinked, staring stupidly at my hand.

“Oh,” I said, and I heard it, the sound dying quickly in the emptiness around me. I looked around and realized that, while there wasn’t much to see, I _could_ at least see.

I had to shut my senses out to recover my focus, but once I was underway again I let them creep back, glancing around as I trusted my inner compass to keep me on course. I passed great colored clouds, beautiful and strange, streams of stars or something like them. Nothing like I’d ever seen before, but possessed of an eerie, alien beauty.

My direction led me into a thick miasma, so close and dark I couldn’t see. Compared to what I’d experienced when I’d arrived it was laughably commonplace. I pressed on until I came to true darkness.

At first it looked like the absolute nothingness I’d begun in, but it cut through the blinding cloud in a sheer plane, a wall. I stopped before it, frowning. The abruptness and utterness of it gave me pause, something trying to tell me this was the end of the universe. That, if I tried to pass through, I would bounce off or just cease to be. But my compass pointed beyond it, so I took a deep breath, pressing on despite my misgivings.

It resisted my passage, pushing back, but strength welled up and helped me force my way through. I popped through abruptly as it gave, and when I looked back there was nothing but blackness. Ahead, though, there was a faint glimmer, and my heart pointed me precisely toward it.

As I came closer, I could make out details: a bright red heart illuminating a doubly-tapered shape of deep, glittering purple. Faint gleams showed smaller crystals orbiting it in a stately twirling dance. I slowed as I began to realize just how _big_ it was, but excitement hastened me at almost the same moment. _This_ was it; _this_ was my goal. The end of my journey.

I stopped within a few yalms of the crystal’s gleaming, faceted surface. A voice swelled, shaking the entirety of the space I had entered yet gentle, paternal. Warm.

“My daughter… I am Zodiark. Savior of the star and its true will.”

The voice seemed to be coming from the crystal itself. Its red heart pulsed brighter, then dimmed slowly.

“Many have been thy travails on thy path here. Many will be thy tribulations on the path upon which I would set thee.”

My breath caught as a figured descended into my view. Indistinct and dark, it was shaped more or less like a person with a pair of inverted wings curving behind it, their tips rising above its head. Two faint haloes between them shimmered, there and gone and then there again. I couldn’t see any features more distinct than faint, gleaming eyes, but I could feel his smile.

“Thy path is not to be walked lightly. Thy heart must remain strong despite tragedy; thy commitment must not falter. Thou must bear much…” One translucent arm reached toward me, gentle warmth brushing my cheek. “Much and more. Wouldst thou take up this burden for my sake, for my restoration? Wilt thou restore the star to wholeness and cast out the usurper?”

I realized my cheeks were wet with tears. Again he touched my face, gentling them away, and I cleared my throat.

“I would. Tell me what to do.”

I felt his—His—smile again. “Child… the depths of thy devotion giveth Me deep and abiding joy.” A light sparked in His torso, a red gleam, growing to illuminate a familiar crystal shape. I stared as He revealed his heart, the giant crystal I floated next to, beating with power. It boomed so low and deep I felt more than heard it. My vision blurred, and for a moment I saw the crystal from a vast distance, the small form hovering before me writ large, on the scale of stars, tenderly cupping the speck that was my miniscule frame.

I gasped, mind reeling, and He drew closer, hands cupping my face. “To thee I return thy soul’s true name, that of thy first birth—Gaia.”

I let the name sink in. It fit comfortably, seeming to curl around my soul in greeting.

“This, then, is thy first charge, my daughter; bear my blessing. Carry it to my servants who have labored faithfully in my name.” He bent close and kissed my forehead. With one last smile, He faded, darkening from view.

I took a deep breath, wondering what was next. I still felt the mark He’d left on my forehead, warm. In fact it seemed to be getting warmer instead of cooling to my skin’s temperature. I frowned, then cried out as it _flared._

I grabbed my head, writhing as flame engulfed my forehead, scorching me from the inside out. Shrieking as I began to immolate, I reached out blindly, desperately, and cool power welled from within, soothing the flame, pushing it back. Panting from relief, I hung limp for a time. The cold spread throughout my body, leaving my extremities numb as my head continued to burn.

I forced myself to focus, trying to push the power where it was needed. It responded, sluggishly at first, then more smoothly as I got the hang of it. And none too soon, either; the fire was still growing, still burning hotter, and the power—no doubt Elidibus helping me, I realized—was all too finite. I focused my will to a knife’s edge, dredging up reserves I didn’t know I had, afraid of taking too much but terrified of what would happen if the fire overtook me.

I meted it out in careful, directed blasts, letting the heat, the power flooding me advance in a controlled fashion. It wasn’t so bad like this, like a hot spring once you let yourself adjust to the heat. Well, it was a lot more intense than that, of course. But aside from a spike of pain through my forehead, the fire cooled to something manageable.

Without warning the power still flowing into me dipped abruptly lower before steadying again. I cried out as fire shot through me, tapping my deepest reserves to make up for the decrease. I could feel the heat now, pulsing, spreading in time with my heartbeats, filling every part of me. It felt like a thing alive, aware, seeking. I reached to it, wanting to understand—why did it burn me so? It bit back, sinking deeper in. But I was already full with it, using my power only to keep from being overwhelmed where it still raged at my brow, and it curled deeper, deep into my soul.

I breathed deep, my lungs full of smoke and ash, but this was just my new reality. I flamed from the inside out, a creature of holy fire. Reborn. It scorched me and empowered me in equal measure; I felt as if I could exhale fire and burn to ash any who stood in my way. With this realization, I closed off the connection to the well of power, relying solely on my own strength.

The blessing—for such I now knew it to be—burning on my forehead flamed yet hotter, and I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to bear the heat. I was terrified of pulling too much from Elidibus, determined to finish this on my own. My instincts told me that I had passed a threshold, that I could no longer rely on any other for this trial. So I endured, as the heat made my head ache and my thoughts swim.

“I accept it,” I gasped. “I can bear it.” What was a little pain, next to the constant torment of my hallucinations? The agony of my dreams? I had been through much worse. This, I could withstand.

The pinpoint of heat on my forehead dove abruptly, lodged in my soul, and went supernova. _No!_ I thought, seizing it, containing it, pulling it in. It filled me until I thought I would burst—

* * *

“…And if not?” The voice registered dimly, at the edge of my conscious mind.

I felt cool, smooth stone beneath my cheek, a soft breeze teasing my hair and clothes.

“I was not mistaken about her potential.” I recognized Elidibus’s voice. “Time will tell, but I do not think I am mistaken in this, either.”

I opened my eyes and sat up. Pashtarot was sitting in front of me, and when I began to move he turned to me with a wide smile.

“You’re awake! Good.”

The conversation died at his words, Elidibus and the woman coming over. I started to get to my feet, but Elidibus put out a hand.

“Do not rush. You have been through a significant ordeal. Take your time.”

“I’m all right. Just a little fuzzy.” I carefully stood. “So it worked, then?” I looked between them.

Elidibus smiled, opening his mouth, but a ringing in my ears swallowed his words. I staggered inside, but somehow my body remained rock-steady even as I wobbled. My hands spread to either side and my lips moved, but my vision had gone indistinct, more than blurry, completely vague. Finally the sound subsided, vision returning, and I blinked in surprise at seeing all three of my companions on one knee before me. I put a hand to my forehead, wincing.

“What just happened?”

Still staring at me, Elidibus rose to his feet; the other two followed his example a moment later.

“You manifested a sliver of Zodiark’s glory and spoke to us with His voice…” He trailed off, drawing a shuddering breath.

“I’ve never seen its like,” Pashtarot said softly. He turned to the woman, a lopsided grin on his lips. “Well? What do you think now?”

“I am glad my skepticism was unwarranted.” She gave me a deep nod. “I am Deudalaphon.”

“Nice to meet you. Um, He…gave me a new name. Gaia.”

“It is a pleasure.”

“I don’t recall hearing of such a title,” mused Pashtarot.

“He said it was the name I was first born with.”

“By tradition,” Elidibus explained, “we members of the Convocation are called by our titles rather than our names. You were not a member of the Convocation, to my knowledge—and my knowledge is extensive—so you would ordinarily go by your name.”

“I see.” I frowned. “So, that means Elidibus is not your name? Then what is it?”

He laughed. “Our names, as well as the faces we wear, are an intimacy shared only with those close to us.”

“Oh.” My face warmed. “Should I wear a mask now?”

“Only if you want to. In time, you will learn of our people, our culture, and you may choose to do so then, in deference to our traditions. There may also be times you find it advantageous to hide your face.” He smiled. “Especially now that you have ascended as the Word.”

I nodded, wondering what he meant by “our people.” It sounded like I had plenty of time to learn, though.

“Pashtarot, Deudalaphon, before you go—I hoped I might enlist your aid in training our Word. I will instruct her in the use of her gift, but she should learn martial and magical skills as well.”

“Of course,” Pashtarot said, giving me a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

“As you will it,” came Deudalaphon’s response, and they disappeared, one after the other.

Elidibus came to stand in front of me, shaking his head. “There were times I despaired of ever seeing this day come to pass. How do you feel?”

“Pretty much the same,” I confessed, “except for the blessing burning inside me.” At his tilted head, I elaborated, “It’s like…fire, burning deep down. It’s banked, but I can feel that all I have to do is reach for it and it will roar up right away.” It was a little frightening, if I was honest with myself.

“Not to worry; you will learn soon enough how to access and control it.” He clasped his hands before himself, then drew them apart slowly. Something coalesced between them, and I felt power build and swell. The swirling radiance dulled to ordinary glass, and he held out a small round mirror. “Here. Take a look at yourself.”

I accepted the mirror and peered at my reflection, my eyes going wide in shock. I looked mostly the same—maybe a bit peaked—but my hair had darkened to a black so deep it shone with bluish highlights. And my eyes—they showed no pupil, the circle of the iris now a solid shape, a deep purple glow at the center fading to navy blue at the rim.

“Is that…normal?”

He smiled. “No. I believe that is a sign of your position.” He let out a soft sigh, his shoulders rising as though a weight had been lifted. “Since Zodiark’s being was divided by Hydaelyn, I have had to serve a dual role, acting both as emissary and mouthpiece for Him. The plan was always to find His true Word…but alas, things did not prove so simple.” He put a hand lightly on my shoulder. “Your earlier manifestation suggests you’ll be able to do a much better job than I.”

I put my hand over his. “I’ll do my best.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” His lips quirked. “But for now, I suspect you could use some rest. Come; let us away. You have much to learn.”

I nodded, glancing one last time at the wavering hooded shade still lingering nearby as darkness took us.


	6. Chapter 6

I panted, my breath echoing harshly inside my helmet. Pashtarot whipped his lance toward me, and I parried the blow, angling my sword so his strike slid to the side.

“Good,” he said, flashing me a grin. “Now, again.” I watched his torso as he’d taught me, caught the movement as he attacked from a different angle. I swung my sword out again to block. I followed him through a series of strikes, catching all of them, and he straightened from his battle stance, setting the spear’s butt against the ground.

“That’s enough for today, I think,” he said. “Tomorrow we’ll start working on defenses against an opponent wielding two knives.”

I let my sword’s tip rest on the ground, leaning on the weapon as I pulled my helmet off and wiped my brow.

“Sounds good,” I said, and he returned the weapon to its place on the rack, giving me a jaunty wave before disappearing. I let myself catch my breath for another minute, then crossed to the rack as well, hanging my greatsword on its hooks.

I would not have expected to discover a preference for the two-hander. Before beginning martial training I had occasionally considered that I might take up the bow, though fear of hurting someone by accident due to a hallucination kept me from it. But I found the greatsword’s reach helped compensate for my short frame. The two-handed axe worked well for that, too, but I loved the larger cutting surface of the sword.

I peeled off my heavy armor piece by piece. I was less enamored of it than the sword, but Pashtarot insisted I use it. As he pointed out, it would be easier to transition from heavier armor to lighter than the other way around. For a long time I’d hated it, but I was finally at the point where I had the strength and stamina to wear and move in it for extended periods of time, making it much less onerous.

Armor stowed, I left the dojo. Elidibus was at the gate to the practice yard already, and I met him there, following him to the small stone house I lived in. He sat at the table, and I took the other seat, across from him, and stretched my hand out, open toward him.

He shook his head, smiling. “Let us begin by trying without physical contact. It will be much harder, but you are on the cusp of that level of mastery.”

“Okay,” I said, unsure if I shared his assessment of my skills. I drew my hand back and focused, trying to reach out without my usual anchor of touch.

“Do not despair if you do not succeed today. Give it your best effort, and if that produces no fruit then we will proceed as we have in the past.”

I tried for something like an hour to touch him with my power, my Echo. Several times I thought I might be close, but I couldn’t quite seem to close the gap. Elidibus could no doubt tell I was growing frustrated; he extended me his hand.

“Let us try this. Pay close attention to what you do, how it feels, when you forge the connection.”

I nodded, concentrating as I took his hand and connected to his soul. I recognized him easily through our physical contact, and there was a moment of charged potential, like two magnets coming close enough to affect each other, and then I was abruptly in the outer bounds of his soul.

It wasn’t a physical place but a mental and aetheric one, a place for souls to meet without risking the vulnerability, the intimacy, of a full joining. I thought of this place as Elidibus’s garden, though there were not actually any plants or even any _thing_ except the exterior of his soul. But this space had the same sense of organization, of cultivation and tending, that a well-loved garden had.

“Good,” he told me. “Now release and let’s do it again.”

I drew back, my full attention returning to my body, and he pulled his hand back so my fingertips barely touched his. “Try now.”

Again I had no trouble making the connection, and when I withdrew he broke the contact between us, holding his fingers a fraction of an ilm away.

“For the soul, there is no difference between what you just did and what you are about to do. I am still right here, Gaia—make the connection.”

I strained toward him, fighting not to twitch my fingers closer for contact. The connection remained elusive.

“Remember how it felt. Focus on that.”

I took a deep breath, releasing my frustration with it, and called to mind that magnetic feeling, the draw. I tried to recreate the ephemeral sensation, the cleaving together, and suddenly I was in his garden.

“Well done,” he told me, and his pleasure, his joy at my success, was like warm afternoon sun.

He had me do it several more times to cement my new understanding, drawing further back each time. I quickly came to understand that proximity wasn’t truly necessary; as long as I could see him I could do it.

“Very good,” he said after I succeeded in making the connection from across the room. “I believe you are sufficiently solid on the concept for today. We will continue your training in the morning.”

He disappeared, and I set about getting ready for sleep.

* * *

Thunder boomed overhead, nigh-continual lightning making the drenching rain flash again and again. The strikes were getting closer, the time between each flash and its attendant rumble growing shorter. I sat under a cliff face, away from any trees as I’d learned in my youth. Just because this was a dream was no reason to abandon all sense. Lashing gusts of wind sent enough rain my way that I was drenched.

A dim shape approached through the trees, a small roiling thundercloud rippling with lightning, churning with a constant internal agitation. It made straight for me. Heart pounding, I prepared to use what I’d learned.

It reached cloudy arms toward me. I shielded, and they slid off the bubble. It tried several more times, seeming slow to understand. Once it became obvious it couldn’t grab me its form grew, diffusing and spreading out to envelop my shield. Nervousness rose as it blocked all sight with its foggy form, but my protections held.

It reformed a few minutes later, almost person-shaped, just beyond my bubble. It crackled and boomed at me, a miniature of the storm’s voice. I frowned. Was it trying to talk? Intimidate me? Lightning speared from it, spattering harmlessly off my shield each time, and it seemed to collapse, condensing to a tight ball, nearly black, on the ground.

It remained there, unchanging, for long enough that I found my attention wandering. I cautiously lowered my defenses, not wanting to be wasteful with my aether. It didn’t react; either it couldn’t tell, or it had no effort left to expend.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I knelt beside it, reaching for it. It compacted tighter, as though to draw away from me, making me pause before closing the gap. I gasped as my arm went numb to the elbow and jerked back. It puffed up a little, looking for all the world like a miniature thundercloud. Wary but still curious, I touched it again. The numbness returned, creeping up my arm until I broke the contact.

The cloud swelled again, forming a figure taller than me. It reached toward me, and I snapped my shield up. It didn’t attack, though, only held what looked like arms out. I let my guard fall again, reaching my hands toward its own. As I took the hands, I thought I saw the faintest glimmer of claws. Then numbness flooded my whole body, and I collapsed, insensate.

* * *

I woke to bright sunshine and Elidibus shaking me.

“Gaia, you must wake up. Something is draining your aether.”

“M’up,” I mumbled, waving him back. I sat up, rubbing bleary eyes, frowning as I realized I’d overslept.

“Are you all right?”

I took stock, my frown deepening. “I feel awfully tired for having just woken up. Weary, I mean, not sleepy. But otherwise I’m fine.”

He regarded me for a long time. “You are much weaker than you should be. I will inform Pashtarot and Deudalaphon that your training is to be canceled for the day. I want you to take your rest and focus on recuperating. You can resume tomorrow if you are sufficiently recovered then.”

I grimaced; I hated the idea of losing a day, but he seemed really worried. I trusted that he knew what he was talking about. He sat on the edge of the bed, twisting to face me.

“What happened? Do you remember?”

I thought back, my gaze dropping to my hands in my lap as recollection returned. “Yeah. I think…I did something stupid.” He waited patiently as I gathered my thoughts. “There was a cloudy figure. It tried to grab me, but my shield held it off. Then it got really small and acted passive. Oh, it made noise at me before that. I thought it might have been trying to communicate, so when it did nothing but sit there I tried touching it.”

“Go on,” he said gently when I paused in self-recrimination.

“Well, my arm felt like it went numb, so I pulled back. But it didn’t do anything, so I tried it again, for longer. Then it did react, growing to about person-sized again and reaching appendages toward me. Not grabbing this time, just reaching out. So I took its hands and,” I snapped my fingers, “lights out. Next thing I know, you’re shaking me awake.”

He folded his arms, a faint frown on his face. “That may not have been the wisest decision, but neither were there any clear warning signs at that point. You can but be more cautious in the future. For a mercy, you were not drained to a dangerous level, merely a concerning one. You should return to normal quickly enough. We will spend some time today working to accelerate your aether’s regeneration, then, if you feel up to it, I will begin teaching you how to shield yourself partially—how to let some things through but not others. This should allow you to explore your dreams and interact more safely in similar situations.” He stood. “For interact you must; if you cannot do so you will learn little, I fear. So it falls to us to make it as safe as possible. I will meet you outside once you are ready.”

“Outside?” I queried, tossing my blanket aside and rising as well.

He gave me a faint smile. “Yes. To begin building your aether back up, we must needs find a spot where the land’s aether runs close to the surface. There is a place nearby that will suit our purposes.” He gave me a nod and walked out, leaving me to get ready.

* * *

I stood facing Deudalaphon. Again she put her hands together, fulminating darkness springing into existence between her palms and swelling as she drew them apart.

“You see?” she said, and let the power dissipate.

I sighed. “I see what you are doing, but I still can’t see_ how_.”

“Are you having trouble seeing how the aether moves as I draw on and manipulate it?”

I gave her a blank look. Did she think I could _see_ the aether? She sighed.

“I gather by your expression that you cannot see it at all?” I nodded, and she folded her arms, her lips tightening. “It is truly a wonder that you have gotten this far without doing so.” She smiled. “You must have some natural aptitude, then. But you will struggle to progress until you learn to see aether as easily as you do light.”

I nodded, wondering despondently how long that would take. She sighed again.

“Would that I could simply show you how to look. That would make this process much easier. You really must learn how to use your Echo.”

“I can!” I burst out heatedly, then blushed, subsiding. “You mean the mental space, right, the connection? I’ve been practicing that with Elidibus for ages.”

She tipped her head, giving me a look of what I thought was surprise. “Very well. Show me.”

I focused, training my attention on her. I had never tried this with anyone except Elidibus, and apprehension swamped me at the realization. I pushed it aside as best I could. To my relief, I had no trouble establishing the connection, and abruptly I was in Deudalaphon’s soul space.

It was very different from Elidibus’s. For one thing it was more chaotic—not disorderly, per se, but darker, or, more accurately, more obscured. Maybe it was just because I didn’t know her as well as I did Elidibus, but I suspected this was just how she chose to appear. So I looked around at the shrouding veils and fogs surrounding her soul, wondering as I waited for her to find me how I appeared to her.

She seemed to coalesce, appearing from everywhere and nowhere. “Very good. You have progressed faster than I expected.” For a long time she studied me.

“Is…something wrong?”

She gave the impression of a sigh. “I apologize. I don’t always express myself well. It should be easier in here, for a mercy.” The warmth of a smile. “I have been thinking of and treating you like a mortal, since you still wear your mortal form. It is clear now that this was an error on my part.”

“Clear how?”

“By the form and presence of your soul. I expected you to have the dimness, the feeble, guttering presence of a mortal soul. Bear in mind, your ascension was very unlike how ours occurs—we renounce our flesh when we attain eternity. As such I didn’t truly understand what transpired, that you were elevated in a similar manner while retaining your mortal flesh. You are, in most respects, identical to an Ascian here.”

_In most respects?_ “So, um…what _do_ I look like to you?” My shyness and nervousness traveled through the space with my words, making me cringe with embarrassment, but Deudalaphon responded with gentle amusement.

“Your soul is as vast and vivid, as strong, as any of ours—save the unsundered, who stand in a class all their own.” For a moment she was troubled, her amusement eclipsed. “You seem to be still in the process of shaping your soul-space, so much of it wavers in potentiality, unsolidified, unshaped. A few things stand clear, though—a deep zeal for our cause, all the more precious for how recently you came to us; matched to this is your drive to improve, to help, to stand beside us in our great work.” Wistfulness spun from her, dancing around me. “Words really do not suffice to explain it. Perhaps someday someone can show you.”

“Is that difficult to do, then?”

“It is intimate. To see through the eyes of another’s soul requires the souls in question to be fully joined. It is not done lightly.” A smile like a warm summer shower. “There is also a deep affection for each of His servants in you, possibly the most beautiful aspect of your space. All the more so, for it, and indeed your entirety, being limned subtly in His splendor.”

I absorbed this, wondering, silent for a time. “I hope to see it someday.”

“I hope that for you as well. But for now, let us return to the subject at hand, the matter of learning to see aether in order to better manipulate it.”

The reason for coming to the soul space for this quickly became apparent as she _overshadowed_ me somehow, draping over me and guiding me through steps that would have been difficult to put into words, trivialized by the mental connection. She guided me through the process several times, until I was ready to try it. Once we left the soul space I put it into practice, carefully replicating the steps I’d just learned. I gasped as color and perspective sprung into view before me, like my sight had been two-dimensional my whole life and I was only now seeing depth.

Deudalaphon turned to me, smiling. “You see it now?”

I nodded, beggared for words as I turned in a full circle, taking everything around me in. Everything was the same, and yet some things were different at the same time. Plants glowed with faint veins of aether, as did the land itself in broader strokes. Deudalaphon stood at the center of a vortex of it, sheets and ribbons and shapes streaming around her in a manic dance, all colors twisting together until they became difficult to distinguish, a variegated storm of darkness.

She waited patiently as I adjusted to it, both the way it worked and the wonder of it. One of my hallucinations wandered by, one of the spindly, leather-winged ones, and I blinked on seeing aether swirling around it. It stopped, turning to stare at me, and I turned away hastily.

“Okay, I think I’m getting used to it.”

She held her hands before her, palms almost touching. “Watch what I do.”

Strands of aether broke off from her, twisting together between her hands. Once it reached a certain concentration it burst into my ordinary sight, the strands tangled together into a cohesive whole. She continued to feed aether in, and it swelled in my sight, a roiling sphere of darkness. I saw when she released the aether; it streamed back into the vortex around her, the ball of darkness shrinking until it no longer held enough aether to manifest and winked out.

“Did you see this time?”

I nodded.

“Good. Watch this time what elements and aspects I weave together; this affects the nature of the magic.”

She began again, but my attention fell behind her, to a group of creatures headed toward us. More hallucinations, by their monstrous appearance, and possessed of similar wreaths of aether to the one I’d first seen. I glanced around for it and froze in shock.

Creatures were approaching from all directions, some still distant, others gathered close, beginning to form a small circle around us. I tried to count the ones I could distinguish…five…ten…twenty…too many.

“Gaia.” Deudalaphon’s sharp tone cut through my rising panic. “I know it must be very exciting to see in a new way, but try to stay focused. Our time is nearly up for the day.”

“It’s not that,” I whispered. She looked at me more closely, taking a step closer.

“What is wrong? You are as pale as a corpse.”

“It’s…” I swallowed. She seemed to be aware of my hallucinations, but I had never discussed them with her. Broaching the subject with someone for the first time was always difficult. “I’m seeing something right now. Hallucinations, I assume, since you aren’t alarmed. Dark creatures coming from all around, surrounding us.”

Her mouth tightened. “Do you think you can ignore them well enough to focus?”

I shook my head. “Deudalaphon—I’ve never seen this many before. This is not normal. And they’ve all got little auras of aether around them.”

She frowned, resting her chin on a fist. “You have never seen aether before, yes? Perhaps your hallucinations have simply incorporated this new thing.”

“Maybe,” I said. The ring of creatures was nearly complete now, and I had to fight a powerful urge to bolt through one of the remaining gaps. The creatures were all staring at me intently, hungrily, and I sidled closer to Deudalaphon. She glanced around, plainly seeing nothing, and set a hand on my shoulder.

“You are safe with me. Be of ease, Gaia.”

The circle closed entirely around us, and I clung to her, forcing panic down. I made myself focus on their aether, comparing and contrasting it to Deudalaphon’s. Hers had a lot more variety to it, I realized, though the overall effect was superficially similar. Hers was a lot stronger, too, which helped me calm down.

She frowned as she looked me over. “Would you like to go into the house?” She turned as though to make for it, and my hands taloned in her robes.

“No!” I took a quick breath. “No, I don’t think it would help. And we’d have to go through them.”

She gave me a squeeze. “Try to relax. I will protect you.”

_How can you protect me from something you can’t see? Something that…that probably isn’t even real?_ I blinked back tears, choking down bitter frustration. I was _safe._ I _knew_ it. They couldn’t hurt me. And even so, nothing could induce me to willingly walk through that crowd of twisted creatures. I _hated_ this. _Hated _my emotions, my sanity, being playthings of my hallucinations. And now that my dreams were under control, it seemed they intended to compensate.

Beside me, Deudalaphon raised one hand, placing fingertips on her forehead. “Elidibus,” she called. I glanced at her, wondering what she was doing. She held the pose for maybe half a minute, then let her hand fall. A dark portal opened beside us, and Elidibus stepped out, turning to me.

“What is wrong, Gaia?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Some kind of hallucination flare-up. There’s about 50 of them, all in a circle around me. Staring.” I pointed at the nearest ones, and he glanced around, frowning. He raised a hand, and I saw his aether swirl into him and spring outward, a barrier glimmering into existence around us before fading from my regular sight. My aether-sight showed it still, though it obscured the view of the hallucinatory creatures, rendering their aether into indistinct smears.

“Is that truly necessary?” Deudalaphon asked.

“I will take no avoidable risks. Until and unless we come to understand the source of her hallucinations, I will treat them as a potential danger.” Deudalaphon frowned, but made no further objection. “Now, Gaia, do you know what, if anything, might have caused this unusual occurrence? Tell me what transpired, every detail.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath, shooting a nervous glance at the creatures outside the shield. They had broken ranks and were milling about, seemingly at random. “I was having trouble figuring out a spell, so Deudalaphon showed me how to see aether so I could pick it up. It wasn’t too hard, and it really helped me see how she was doing it, but by the second time through we’d begun to gather an audience.” I stopped. Elidibus was staring at Deudalaphon, his lips pressed tight together. Glaring, I realized.

“There is a reason I had not yet taught her to do that.”

Deudalaphon drew back. “My apologies, Emissary. I was not aware.”

He sighed, relenting. “You need not apologize; the fault is not yours. I did not inform you. I rather thought she could manage without it for long enough to master selective shielding. The error was mine.”

Deudalaphon raised her arms in a shrug. “It would require a significant time expenditure to instruct her in how to aspect elements in opposition to their original nature. It is much easier to simply show it.”

“She has progressed so far already?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes. I was surprised to find she could enter the soul space. Especially given that you hadn’t taught her to see aether. Isn’t it generally done the other way around?”

“I have my reasons for taking a different approach. Using aether-sight makes you stand out in a way that can garner unwanted attention. I did not wish to risk her doing this, especially on her own. Some of what she’s described of her hallucinations…worries me.”

Deudalaphon crossed her arms. “You anticipated that this might occur?”

Elidibus paused. “Not this exactly. There is a presence that has been stalking her dreams. It was this which I worried might seek her out.” Elidibus turned to address me. “I have not mentioned it before because I did not think it necessary to alarm you, but something has been leeching your aether nightly. You ought to regenerate aether as you sleep, but of late you typically wake up with no more than you had upon retiring. It used to be worse. I have been monitoring the situation, but the source of the drain continues to elude me. Most likely it is to be found in your dreams, and I cannot follow you there.

“I believe this has been going on since long before we met. You were surprisingly weak, much weaker than I would have hoped, when I found you. Your ascension gave you a well of power to draw from, allowing you to improve quickly and gain a measure of control in your dreams. That, in turn, seems to have kept more of your power from being siphoned off. No doubt this is also why your magical aptitude has increased so rapidly.”

“So I shouldn’t try to see aether?”

“Not on your own; not until you’ve learned to shield properly. Note how you cannot see aether beyond my shield—that is the case, no? Or could it be you are merely hallucinating that you see their aether?”

I shrugged. “As soon as your shield went up, it all went indistinct.” I looked around. “Did that happen both ways, then? Most of the creatures are gone, and the ones still here aren’t staring at me like they were before.”

“The interference works in both directions, yes. This is why you must master selective shielding before you use your sight, to protect you while still allowing you to see. Barring that, one of us must protect you while you practice. I would be cautious of your hallucinations simply because it is wise not to take unnecessary risks. But I know something has been stalking you; more than once I have detected its aetheric signature. It is no hallucination, and we must be on our guard.”

“I’m getting pretty good at selective shielding now, though.”

He turned to Deudalaphon. “Would you construct a proper shield for using aether sight and casting advanced magicks requiring concentration?”

She nodded, and a slightly smaller bubble grew within Elidibus’s. I marveled open-mouthed at the complexity of it, the way it wavered and twisted like a thing alive, seeming to turn and fold reality. I realized soberly that I was still a ways away from that level of mastery.

“Thank you. I need to consult something. Can you remain with Gaia until my return? I do not know how long it will take.”

“Of course,” she replied. “We will finish our lesson, and perhaps I can help her improve her shielding.”

He gave her a nod and disappeared, his shield falling. I glanced around, finding I could now distinctly see the aether outside the shield. I checked up on the remaining hallucinations, but none of them showed any undue interest.

“Do you usually use a shield like this when looking at aether?”

“No,” Deudalaphon said. “Hence why I did not earlier when you first tried it. Such a thing is typically used only when in a hazardous location or in an attempt to conceal the practitioner.”

That made sense. “So I should behave as though I’m potentially in danger at all times, then?”

“That is his wish. No doubt due to the fact that you have a mortal form.” She crossed her arms, frowning lightly. “He seems to be going to great lengths to preserve that. I can only assume that is why he passed over aetherology to bring you into soul space immediately.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, learning that enables you to learn a great many things more easily. What was the next thing he taught you after that?”

“How to begin controlling my dreams.”

“Ah yes, of course. No doubt to stop the drain on your aether as well as to let you begin doing your work.” She frowned. “A concerning revelation, that drain. But if he cannot trace it, I will have no more success. Then he taught you shielding?” I nodded. “As I suspected, though that will be easier to learn if he permits you to use your aether sight in conjunction with it. Do remember not to use it without one of us here to protect you, please. It would be upsetting to have all our hard work undone.”

I swallowed. “No problem. I’m in no hurry to experience _that_ again.”

“Good.” She continued to watch me. “I wonder…with your form, you cannot simply retreat to another body if something happens to this one, as we do. He probably has forged a connection deep enough to teleport you even from a distance. You seem to have a sufficient mastery of the connection for that.” She smiled. “No doubt he has been carefully cultivating your trust for this purpose.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, alarm creeping in.

She waved a hand. “I did not mean to imply he is not trustworthy. He will never harm you; his nature forbids it, as does his mission. But for such an act of teleportation to succeed, you would have to surrender utterly to him. Were you to resist or try to take control, it could end very badly for you.”

“Oh,” I said, my concern fading. I _did_ trust Elidibus; he had shown clearly that I was important to his cause, his people, and he demonstrated his care in the way he taught me.

She smiled again. “I must say, I’m surprised that he doesn’t seem to have realized how you feel. As shrewd and observant as he is, there are some ways in which he can be remarkably oblivious.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded, and her smile disappeared, her head canting.

“Your…affection for him. I saw it in your soul, and again in your behavior toward him.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” I protested, feeling my face go hot. I didn’t _like_ him, not that way. I just…

She smirked. “Perhaps he is not the only oblivious one. Your soul, the parts you have shaped, resemble his strongly in their order and arrangement.”

“Well, yeah. I admire him. He is a great teacher. That doesn’t mean…”

Deudalaphon shrugged as I trailed off. “There is naught to be ashamed of. Even those among our ranks who find difficulty with his…esoteric methods still respect him and listen closely when he speaks.” Seeing me continue to struggle with her words, she changed the subject. “But it is high time we returned to your lesson, now that the hallucinations no longer plague you.”

Relieved, I turned my attention to the aether she spooled up between her hands.


	7. Chapter 7

I opened my eyes to oppressive heat. Bare, scorched earth wavered in the heat, and my eyes watered. I raised a shield, infusing it with wind-aspected aether to counteract the heat. The wind rose, flaming cinders flying past me, and I turned toward its source.

A great wall of fire towered over the land, racing my way. The wind whipped it into a frenzy, sending sheets blasting off to scour the ground or soar into the air like deranged clouds. I fed more power into my shield as a crackling roar washed over me, drowning everything else out. I flinched as the flames came crashing down on me, but my shield held.

I peered as best I could through the lashing tongues of flame. Sure enough, a figure soon appeared, shrieking toward me on wings of flame, a fiery blade in its grasp. I stood firm as it struck, smiling as the blade skittered off. I let it continue to attack, waiting for it to change its approach.

I had had enough of being tormented, of hiding behind a shield so I wouldn’t get hurt. And I had already been through the fire.

It was time to unleash my own firestorm.

I dropped my shield and channeled my blessing, letting it flare into radiance. My forehead seared, making the fire around me seem cool by comparison, and I screamed as the firestorm swirled around me, drawn into my vortex. The figure stumbled, knocked off-balance by the storm’s reverse of direction.

I raised my hands and brought the full force of the storm, now fully claimed by my power, down on it. I bore down, sending every onze of power through it, until the raging flames were spent. I walked through the drifting ash to where it had been.

To my surprise it hadn’t been completely incinerated. A weak twist of darkness lay prostrate on the ground. Annoyed, I reached down to grab it. It didn’t resist, hanging limp and deceptively smoky in my grip.

“Still around after  _ that?” _ I groused, giving it a shake. I dropped it, preparing to draw more power. It knelt, bowing its shadowy head to the ground at my feet, and I paused, brow creasing. What now? It didn’t move at all as I wondered what to do about the stubborn thing.

“What do you want?” I asked it, weary of the guessing game. It sat back, raising its hands to me. My eyes widened as it dissolved, a stream of gleaming aether and color trembling in the air, drifting toward me. It washed over me, and I gasped as images, sensations, concepts, tumbled into my mind, far too dense and rapid and complex to process. I tried to bar it, pushing it away, but  _ something _ overruled me, embracing it and drawing it in.  _ Welcoming _ the flood of stimulus which rapidly overwhelmed me. Conscious thought faded, borne down under the din, and winked out.

* * *

At the sound of a chair scraping I sat up from where I was slumped on the table. Seeing it was Elidibus, I rubbed my face and propped my head on one hand, pressing on my forehead to try and relieve the agony.

“Are you all right?”

“I had an interesting dream last night, followed by a splitting headache this morning.”

“Mmm. Tell me about the dream, if you would.”

I recounted the firestorm, the dark flaming figure, using the blessing to subdue it, and its final surrender and the flood that followed. He sat, frowning thoughtfully, punctuating the silence with an occasional tap of his fingers.

“You believe this headache is related, then?”

“It’s hard to imagine it couldn’t be. I woke up this way, and the last thing that happened in the dream was that rush of images and sensation.”

“Let me take a look,” he said. At his mental knock, I let him enter my soul space. Here the pain was dimmer, still present but less immediate. Elidibus took an unusually long time to join me, and when he arrived, it was with a sense of dissatisfaction.

“What?” I queried, nervous.

“Something serious occurred last night; your psyche has undergone significant change since our lessons yesterday.” He scrutinized me again. “I need to see if I can reconstruct what you saw last night. This will require a closer connection than we have attempted before.”

“If it will help us figure out what this all means, then do it.”

He drew closer, closer, until, instead of seeming to see his self, I could  _ feel _ it—the contours, the texture and substance. The boundary fuzzed, and I forced myself not to pull away as we began to mingle. I focused instead on what I remembered of the dream’s final moments. I felt him smile in gratitude, the sensation odd coming from within me, then his focus turned to something else. He pulled back again, until our borders barely intersected.

Time passed, interminable through the pounding pain in my head, and then he began moving me, drawing me into something else.

“Another entity has imprinted some portion of itself onto you,” he explained. “I will attempt to help you filter through and interpret it.”

Image and sensation slowly took focus, a riot of garish colors and gold. It didn’t look like anything to me, but I felt Elidibus go intent. He brought us slowly forward, traveling through this odd place. The images weren’t entirely connected, following for a time, then jumping to somewhere else. They settled down once we entered a huge circular room with what looked like huge blood vessels or growths of flesh spiderwebbing it. Elidibus paused there, seeming… grim?

“Are you all right?” I asked him, concerned.

“That remains to be seen.” If I could have seen his hands, I suspected they’d be white-knuckled. “I thought the formations seemed familiar…” He gathered himself, bringing his emotions back into equilibrium. “I know this place. Once you feel well enough, we should go there and see if we can divine what was intended by this.” He guided me back to myself, and I returned to my body.

“The headache is a bit better now,” I told him. “And I may as well be miserable there as here. Let’s go.”

We materialized in a huge Allagan ruin… no—it was Allagan, but it wasn’t ruined. I gaped at strange consoles, indecipherable magitek, huge structures all around us.

“Where are we?”

“This is Azys Lla, a flying construction of the Allagans, rediscovered by mortals a few years ago.” He set off, and I followed him into some kind of large building. The further in we got, the more it looked familiar from the snippets I’d just seen. We approached a pair of large doors, and an unaccountable sense of dread eclipsed me. My heart hammered, my palms going damp. I wanted to run away. But I forced myself through the doors, finding to no surprise the circular room I’d seen before.

My eyes were pulled inexorably across the room, to the left, to a seemingly unremarkable stretch of floor. My vision swam. I saw a towering figure clad in armor—made of armor? I wasn’t sure. It put its hand out, and a massive sword appeared beside it. It raised the sword… swung it… light knifed out and… darkness.

I reeled, gasping from the intensity, the immediacy of the vision. Elidibus was already at my side, stabilizing me. Between steadying breaths I told him what I’d witnessed. His grip went slack; fortunately I had recovered my feet already.

“Lahabrea…” he murmured. “Could it be?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the place where one of my comrades, Lahabrea, fell in combat. I believe you saw his demise just now. But how did you come by these memories?” He fell silent, frowning in thought.

An idea occurred to me, grew on me. “I’m going to try using my blessing. I feel like it was the blessing that made me take these memories,” I explained, “so maybe it can do something with them. It’s worth a shot.”

After a moment he nodded, the motion reluctant. “Be careful.”

I reached for the fire simmering in my soul, drawing it out and sending it seeking throughout the room. It latched on here and there, swelling into color, form, sound. The scene reformed, but this time it did not stop when the burst of light struck the robed figure. The giant armored figure raised the sword, and I threw up a shield, tuning into the scene’s aether. I watched in fascinated horror as the figure’s aether, its soul, its  _ self _ was absorbed by a strange red gem in the sword.

A fight broke out between the figure, which with aether-sight I could now see was a powerful primal, and a figure that seemed ordinary except that it pulsed with painful brilliance. The primal brought powerful blows infused with aether down on the warrior; I watched it stream away as they were evaded or blocked or absorbed. To my surprise, the primal fell before the figure’s might… and I watched as the aether empowering the primal drained away, falling back to the land.

My gift drew me along with it, and I  _ felt _ a familiar presence—the dark figure from my dreams, or a piece of it. Then another streamed by on its way to the land, far below, and another. As comprehension dawned fully, I fell back into my body, releasing my hold on the blessing and letting my shield drop.

“I know where he is,” I gasped, grabbing Elidibus’s hand. “I think I can find him!”

“Calm yourself, Gaia; you aren’t making sense. Start at the beginning.”

I took a deep breath, nodding and forcing myself to release my grip on his hand. “I saw what happened after he was struck down. He was absorbed by the primal, but someone defeated it, and all the aether was spent and returned to the land. He’s there, still, in the land!”

Elidibus folded his arms. “That seems, on the face of it, impossible. That is not to say that I doubt what was revealed to you, simply that I do not understand.” He straightened with a sigh. “Just tell me how I can help you.”

* * *

Late afternoon sun sparkled off Mor Dhona’s crystal formations, dazzling my eyes. I let them fall closed, savoring the warmth on my shoulders as I sat cross-legged, facing Silvertear Lake. I could feel power pulsing deep from the earth as I stretched out, the land’s aether flowing like a mighty river all around me, deep and swift and close.

Breathing deep, I slipped into my soul’s space, and Elidibus joined me a moment after. “I’m going to begin now,” I informed him. Dimly I felt his hand squeeze my shoulder.

“I shall stand ready,” he confirmed, and I reached out to the blessing. It leaped eagerly to me, and I moderated the flow, letting it trickle out, controlled. Then I lowered myself into the river.

I submerged in a chaotic riot of aether; only Elidibus, tethering my soul, kept panic from rising. I took a deep breath and looked around, praying my blessing would take over the way I hoped it would. My vision swam, and I felt myself drawn to a swirl of aether—a sense of determination, of adamant drive uncurling from it as I touched it. I seized it, drawing it in, and my blessing caught it, wrapping it up and creating a bubble around it within me.

I marveled for a moment—it looked like this might work—and another curl of aether resonated with my gift. Carefully I captured it, drawing it into the bubble. I repeated the process again and again, each time a piece of the shade drifted by. And they were many; I soon began to get a sense for how vast the entity I was recreating truly was. My soul was stretched out, bearing something far larger than itself already. Were it not for the blessing, I might well have been overwhelmed, subsumed in this larger, stronger soul. But it protected me, keeping us separate and helping me put the pieces back together how they belonged.

As I reached for another piece a tug pulled me back. I strained against it, managing to snag the aether, but the tug became a yank, a pull too strong to fight. I popped out of the great river of aether and found myself soul-to-soul with Elidibus, concern written plain over him.

“You need to take a break.”

He had to help guide me back to my body; I had been so long in the land—and my soul’s landscape was now so different, distended to contain another soul—that I didn’t fall in naturally like always before. I blinked up at the pitch-black sky awash in stars.

“How—” I croaked, and coughed. Elidibus pressed a waterskin into my hands, and I drank gratefully. “How long has it been?”

“Approximately eight hours,” he said, and handed me a cloth-wrapped bundle with a pair of sandwiches inside it. I dug in, surprised to find I was ravenous. He didn’t speak until after the food was gone.

“I take it something has been occurring, then?”

I looked at him in surprise. Did he not see what was going on with my soul? By way of response I reopened the connection to soul space.

“How do I look to you?” I queried when he appeared.

“It seems you are assimilating,” he paused, “or relocating, perhaps, the foreign constructions upon your soul. That is undoubtedly a good thing.”

“I’ve done more than that.” I guided him to the edge of the bubble. “Can you not see this?”

He went thoughtful, studious. “I see naught but the outer boundary of your soul.” I looked incredulously at the huge gestating soul within. He followed my attention. “Whatever you perceive is outside my ability to see. I assume it is going well, by the time you have invested. Though the difficulty I had extracting you concerns me.” Indeed, his worry colored the space between us, and I responded with embarrassment.

“I didn’t recognize what was happening at first. I was so deeply immersed in my work, I actually fought against it instinctively.”

He seemed to find this amusing. “I am relieved that it was nothing serious.” He seemed to come to a decision. “Would you like to rest, or continue?”

“I really don’t want to stop now. I’m well over halfway, probably close to two-thirds finished.”

“How can you be sure?”

“It’s like a trance state. I keep having dream-moments, and I can see when a piece belongs and where. I can see, vaguely, what the complete soul should look like.” Embarrassment washed over me again as he regarded me with amazement. “It’s from my blessing, I know that much. Somehow, either from that or from the information dump in that last dream, I have a… blueprint, essentially, to work off of. It takes very little conscious effort.”

“And yet you will run yourself haggard and dehydrated. Please do not fight me the next time I try to pull you out.”

“I think I’ll recognize it next time,” I said, and turned to plunge back into the land’s aether. It didn’t take long to get my rhythm back, and as much as I tried to stay aware of Elidibus anchoring me, I soon fell fully into the trance-state of locating and reknitting the soul I held inside me. Recognize, seize, and weave…

Slowly the soul approached completion, and the pieces became harder and harder to find, streaming by more rarely. So close to finished, I found myself impatient, unwilling to wait for them to finally drift by. Reaching out to anchor myself more securely to Elidibus, I let myself flow through the land, the blessing guiding me to a piece… another… another… until finally I fitted the last one into place and the soul  _ resonated. _

I stopped, captivated, watching as completion was realized from its core outward, then a light tug drew my attention to how far I’d wandered. Suddenly nervous, I pulled back, letting Elidibus reel me in. I hadn’t noticed before how the currents battered me, so intent had I been on my goal, but he didn’t let me founder in the turbulent stream.

I settled back into my soul space, heavy but content.

“What were you doing?” Elidibus’s demeanor was chiding, worried.

“Getting the last few bits. It was taking too long for them to come around.”

“Then it is done?” Relief permeated him.

“Yes,” I confirmed, joy winning through my weariness. “It’s done.”

“A moment,” he requested, and disappeared. He returned radiating a clear sense of satisfaction. “As I’d hoped. The foreign growths are gone.”

“Not exactly,” I clarified. “They’re where they belong.”

“No longer upon your soul,” he agreed. “But you need rest.” He withdrew, and, unable to deny the truth of his words, I followed.

Midmorning sun greeted me, making me shield my eyes and wince at its growing brilliance. Elidibus still stood by me, seeming as though he never tired, never needed to sit down. I was grateful for his hand helping me to my feet; I was a bit light-headed and my legs were painfully cramped from sitting for so long. I walked around to limber them up, and a glitter caught my eye—a purple crystal, almost pinkish. I bent down and picked it up. It pulsed in my hand, sending a jolt down my arm and connecting to my soul.  _ What in _ —

Elidibus turned at my indrawn breath and saw the crystal in my hand. His lips parted, then he smiled broadly.

“A crystal of darkness,” he mused. “Well done, Gaia. You are progressing faster than I dared to hope.”

I offered it to him, unsure what to do with the thing, but he gently curled my fingers around it.

“It is for you,” he explained. “Your deeds in Zodiark’s service will empower it, and you may call upon that power in your need.”

Nodding my understanding, I tucked it into a pocket and pushed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets. “I think I could sleep for a day straight,” I yawned, and Elidibus chuckled.

“You have assuredly earned whatever rest you desire. Come, let us away.”

I took his hand, and reality broke apart around us.


	8. Chapter 8

I wasn’t surprised to find Elidibus hovering in my cottage’s dining room when I awoke. I’d sensed him whenever I’d woken up enough to be conscious of my surroundings. Obviously he was still worried about me.

I called out a greeting to him on my way to the bathroom, letting myself dip into soul-space to check on my passenger. Despite its vastness, the soul still seemed fragile, attenuated. He—I was reasonably sure, based on the other souls I’d seen, that this person perceived and presented himself as male—seemed to be unconscious still, deeply asleep and unaware of his new environs. Satisfied that that would wait for now, I dressed myself and joined Elidibus.

He had prepared a quick breakfast for me, and I tucked in gratefully as he looked me over. His mouth tightened in clear dissatisfaction at the end of his perusal.

“What is it?”

“Your aether is still being drained.” He crossed his arms, frowning. “It seems worse than before, in fact. This bodes ill, Gaia.”

“I think I know where it’s going. The soul is intact now, but it’s in pretty rough shape. He’s sleeping, essentially, and healing. He’s already looking better than when I fell asleep, at least a bit. I think that’s where the aether is going—to him, to help him heal.”

“Are you sure?”

I set my fork down to check, inviting Elidibus in when he came to join me. I tried to find where the aether was going, forced in the end to rely on Elidibus to detect and trace the drain. He located it without trouble, taking a moment to demonstrate his methods and leading me along its path.

“It seems to simply dissipate here.”

I followed the trail he indicated. “That’s the barrier, yes. Let me see…” I looked more closely. “Yes. It’s going through the barrier.” I went again to check on the sleeping soul. On my return, I found Elidibus studying me intently.

“What is it?”

“I did not realize that a soul could be there and yet not in this space. Whatever you just did, wherever you just went, is something the likes of which I have never seen before.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. “Well, as far as I can tell, the trail leads directly to the soul. I think we can set our minds at ease with regards to the drain on my aether.”

He seemed only partially satisfied by that. “That is good, but it still leaves you weak. Let me lend you strength for the time being, just until this situation is resolved. Let me assist in healing—” He paused, corralling some wayward thought. “The soul you carry.”

Convinced, I assented, and he wove a connection between us, a conduit through which he could feed me power. That done, I returned to my breakfast, surprised to find myself feeling more alert and energized than usual. Elidibus was abnormally quiet, seeming lost in thought, and finally my curiosity got the better of me.

“Is everything all right?”

He stirred, as though he’d nearly forgotten my presence. “That remains to be seen. I cannot help but wonder if this soul was the source of the drain all along. You often felt weary before we met; I recall you mentioning that at one point. When did that begin? A few years ago?”

“No. I always felt like that, as far back as I can remember. I assumed it was due to sleeping poorly.”

“That may have been part of it, but I labor to believe it might be all. And how do you feel now?”

“I thought I was back to normal after my ascension. I didn’t know I could feel even better.”

He sat in thoughtful stillness for a while. “Impossible to say for sure,” he finally concluded, “but if this was a source of the drain, it cannot have been the only one. Not to mention that it should not have had access to your aether, trapped as it was in the land.” He stood. “I see no reason why you should not continue your lessons, so long as you exercise care and remain mindful of your limits.” Still shrouded in an air of distraction, he disappeared, taken by the void to who knew where.

* * *

I led my strike with my hips, pivoting as I whipped my sword up and around, my core contracting, my shoulders flexing. Pashtarot ducked, raising his shield to catch the blow. My aim was true, though; he wasn’t able to deflect my strike, and I grinned as the shock of the impact raced up my arm.

With my momentum checked, he raised his sword to strike my vulnerable side. I shifted my grip on the hilt and slid my food to the side, lowering my stance and drawing the sword further in front of my body. I caught his strike high, just below the crossguard, and angled my blade. Metal screeched as his blade slid off mine. I pressed the advantage, drawing my blade back, then stepping into a deep forward thrust. It slipped past his shield, striking his breastplate to one side and making him stagger back a step.

I pressed the momentary advantage, leaning my weight into the strike to off-balance him further. He shifted his weight, stepping back to present a partial profile, and my blade scraped off the armor. I reversed direction, pulling back before he could trap the tip of my greatsword between his body and arm. I thrust again, but this strike slid off his shield, and he recovered his footing.

For a moment we faced off, watching for an opening. Taking advantage of the reach my sword afforded me, I made an exploratory strike, starting low and rising at a diagonal. He angled his sword, catching my blow and sending it wide, then stepping into the opening he’d created.

I pivoted to put my blade more squarely between my body and his weapon, watching for the tell-tale movement that would signal an impending blow. His left shoulder dropped back, just a few ilms, and I grinned. I angled my blade—

Something struck me from out of nowhere, rocking me.  _ From behind? No, _ I realized.  _ From within. The bubble…! _

The distraction cost me my focus, and Pashtarot’s blow struck me squarely on the shoulder, leaving me staggered, while at nearly the same time another impact shook the barrier. Pashtarot’s lips, already tight with disapproval, curled into a frown, and he drew his arm back. I sunk down, trying to recover, trying to bring my sword up, but a third shock sent me to a knee. Pashtarot’s sword loomed close.

“Wait,” I gasped, too late. But somehow he managed to stop short.

“What has gotten into you?” His normally bright speech was clipped, annoyance and disappointment clearly on display.

“It’s my passenger,” I tried to explain, the words tumbling out of me in a rush. “Something’s wrong. I have to take care of this.”

“What?” he asked, confused, but I was already retreating into soul-space. I dimly registered his request to join me as I reached the barrier and let him enter. Cautiously I tried entering the bubble, and it permitted me through, leaving me with an odd sort of double-vision of Pashtarot’s confusion and worry laid over the recuperating soul.

I focused on the soul, tuning Pashtarot out for the time being. He seemed to be awake, but had withdrawn into himself.  _ What happened in here? _ Looking more closely, I could see my passenger had lost aether and cohesion since last I’d checked on him. I looked around for anything else that could have caused that disturbance or hurt him, but there was nothing I could detect. I stretched out to him. Maybe he could tell me what had happened.

“Hello?”

The soul reacted to my presence and attempt at communication, turning its attention on me. For a moment I felt very small beside him. He struck without warning, aether lashing out and lancing through my soul. I flinched, speechless in disbelief, but it seemed to pass through me without any effect.

Scared and confused, I threw up hasty protections as he attacked again, rage and defiance screaming from him. Pashtarot had gone quiet, but at the sight of my protections he began plying me again with questions and concern. I hadn’t the time or concentration to explain to him, but I sent a burst of gratitude when he added his own formidable defenses around my own.

To my relief, the second attack had no more effect than the first, and he stopped, helpless fury telling me he too could tell it wasn’t working.

“Release me!” he ordered, imperious.

_ Of course, _ I realized.  _ He has no idea where he is or who I am. _ Worried he would hurt himself further in his efforts to get free, I tried to open the bubble. It didn’t respond to my efforts, and I realized I really had no idea how to control it. Dismayed, I returned my attention to the soul.

“I’m sorry,” I explained, “I didn’t create this bubble, at least not consciously. I don’t know how to open it.” His dissatisfaction at this radiated plainly out. I looked him over more closely. His condition was bad. Really bad; rents and gaps in his being hung open, gaping, leaking aether weakly. The sight rocked me like a blow to the gut. “Plus,” I added, “I don’t think you should try to leave it yet. You need to recover. Especially after…” I tried not to wince, “exerting yourself.”

He turned his attention selfward, displaying none of the shock I expected. Worried, I reached for the conduit to Elidibus. It pained me to put any kind of drain on him, but he would chide me if he knew he could have helped and my pride interfered.

“Here,” I said, and began directing aether to him, mending gaps and reknitting rifts. He reacted with surprise and suspicion but didn’t fight me further.

“If you don’t know how to open this prison, then how are you here?”

His question jostled my concentration. I refocused for a moment before responding. “I don’t know. I can pass through, at least partially, it seems. I…” I struggled for a moment, unable to put my instinctive actions into a logical framework, finally giving it up as a bad effort. “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I confessed. “I’m going on instinct and faith here.”

He seemed at least somewhat satisfied, and I finished my work, letting the connection with Elidibus return to a trickle. I tried not to feel self-conscious as my passenger scrutinized me.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Gaia.” Realizing the name likely meant nothing to him, I clarified, “The, uh, Word. Of Zodiark.”

His reaction of shock deepened my embarrassment. “Impossible!”

I didn’t contradict him; I didn’t feel I deserved the position anyway. He looked me over more closely, dropping his guarded aura, seeming genuinely curious. Amazement radiated out from him.

“Who are you?” This time his sense was subdued, reverent.

I would have thought I’d reached the peak of embarrassment. I was wrong. “I’m just Gaia. I’m trying to help you get better. But I’m still figuring the process out, so please be patient with me?”

He conveyed reluctant agreement by way of response, and relief flooded me. I was terrified he’d hurt himself even worse trying to get out.

“Thanks. I don’t know how long this process will take, but I’ll be sure to come check on you regularly.” He reacted in displeasure, and I suddenly worried that he’d rather be left alone. “If that’s all right,” I added.

He seemed much more experienced than I in communicating without words; his mien conveyed clearly that he cared little either way. Again I worried for him, trying not to show it too obviously.

“Elidibus will be glad to know you’re awake and all right, I’m sure.”

He came to some abrupt realization, and I wondered what it might be. To my surprise, he explained.

“I realized that you remind me of him.”

“Ah,” I responded weakly, reminded forcibly of Deudalaphon’s words. “Well, is there, um, anything I can do for you? At the moment?”

“Figure out how to let me out of here.”

“I’ll do my best,” I promised him, beginning to withdraw, then stopping short. “What should I call you?”

“Lahabrea.”

I reined in a trained “pleased to meet you.” It seemed he wanted to be alone. I gave him a more neutral acknowledgement and withdrew fully from the space. I refocused on Pashtarot, who was waiting with patient but tense concern, his attention turned to every possible avenue of attack. I let my protections fall.

“Everything is fine now,” I let him know, indicating that he could relax the protections he had erected when he seemed hesitant to do so. “The soul I reconstructed woke up and didn’t know where he was. He was fighting to get out. I’ve explained the situation now, though.”

He searched around in response to my explanation. “What do you mean? There is no soul here but yours and mine.”

I indicated the barrier. “It seems only I can see and access the bubble that holds him separate from me. Elidibus couldn’t see it either.”

“I’m afraid I do not understand. You say you reconstructed a soul? How? Who?”

_ Has Elidibus not told him? _ I realized he might have some reason for holding the information back. But Pashtarot had not hesitated to shield me at potential cost to himself, and he was plainly worried. I decided he deserved to know. If Elidibus had a problem with it, he could take it up with me.

“My dreams led me to find a soul that had been torn apart and trapped in the land’s aether. With Elidibus’s help, I managed to locate and reconstruct him. He’s been deeply asleep for a week. He just woke up and found himself trapped in the bubble that’s holding his soul separate from mine. Needless to say he found it alarming, having no idea where he was or what had happened.”

Pashtarot pondered this. “What is so special about this soul, that you went to these lengths? I felt you draw upon Elidibus’s power earlier.”

“He’s an Ascian. He called himself Lahabrea.”

Pashtarot’s shock slapped me like a whitecap, washing over me, followed by comprehension… joy… hope. “Lahabrea? You’re sure?”

“I have no way to know, but he didn’t seem to be lying.”

He went thoughtful, though joy still danced about him like scintillating motes. “We had thought him lost forever. Destroyed. If it turns out Elidibus is not the last Unsundered, that would be…” He paused, emotions rippling over him. “Good. Very good. He bears too much, and he only lets those of us inclined to work with him help so much.”

I couldn’t help but agree. I’d seen it too. “Thank you for protecting me when he tried to attack me. It seems he wasn’t actually able to affect me, but it scared me nonetheless.”

He gave the impression of amusement. “It was my pleasure. But it seems you need to learn how to defend yourself in case something like this threatens you in the future. If it’s all right with you, we can go over that now. You clearly have a good handle on physical combat.”

I agreed, and he began by showing me his own defenses and breaking them down for me. We didn’t get far into the lesson, though, before Elidibus requested access to our shared soul space. I agreed, curious how it would work. Once Pashtarot also welcomed him in, the space expanded, reordering and making room for him. To my surprise, it didn’t simply put their respective spaces together, but made a new one, different but still reminiscent of both of them.

Elidibus acknowledged Pashtarot’s presence, then turned to me. “I felt you draw upon my power. Is all well, Gaia?”

“It is now,” I assured him. I quickly summarized what had occurred, how I’d needed to heal Lahabrea after his struggles. He did not interrupt, though I felt his concern and worry grow.

“You did well,” he assured me when I finished my explanation. “Though you will at some point need to discover how to release him, I do not doubt you will manage it. Is there aught else I can do at this juncture to assist you further?”

“I don’t believe so. He just needs to heal and recover. If you’d like, I could convey a message to him.”

He considered. “I would let him choose to initiate contact. He has been through much. I suspect he will need time to process and come to terms with events. When next you speak to him, let him know that you can relay messages to any of us from him.”

“I will,” I promised, and Elidibus turned his attention to Pashtarot.

“I would request that you refrain from telling any of the others about this for now. Much as I hope that all will be well, there remains the possibility that this matter may turn out like the situation with Bahamut—or worse. Until I can examine him myself, I would not raise anyone’s hopes.”

_ Bahamut? _ Whatever that meant, it cooled Pashtarot’s joy with solemnity.

“Agreed. I will keep it to myself for now.”

“Thank you.” Elidibus bade us goodbye and disappeared from the space, which realigned to show just Pashtarot once more.

“What did he mean by that? Did he mean the elder primal?”

“In a manner. He was making reference to the fact that reviving the dead generally ends badly—and unsuccessfully. That he let you proceed with whatever you did means he has hope that it will work. But I fear we cannot know for sure until he emerges, since you do not know him and we cannot see him.” Warmth and cheer wrapped around me—a smile. “Don’t fret. What you’ve described so far sounds just like the old man. Elidibus is just inclined to worry overmuch.”

He had a point, and I conceded that he was probably right, letting my worries go. He sent gentle encouragement in response.

“We have a bit more time to continue your lesson. Let us return to that.”

I assented, putting the matter of my passenger out of my head as best I could and refocusing on Pashtarot’s inner protections.


End file.
